Legend of the Knights of Destiny
by Rogue11
Summary: Set in a medieval AU, Legend has it that at times of darkness and despair the Knights of Destiny will join forces to restore justice and peace. Revised! Check prologue for more info
1. Settings

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Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc. and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.  
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Title: Legend of the Knights of Destiny

  
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Author: Rogue 11

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Rating: R for violence in some parts

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Warnings: Shõnen-ai, lime, some violence

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Notation: _Italics_ – indicates thoughts****

Bold – indicates emphasis

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About the Story: Set in a medieval AU, its a story about 5 young warriors destined to fight for justice and peace.  
Shõnen-ai, a lot of different parings as the story progresses,   
1x2, 2x1, 6x1, 3x4, 5x13, 6x9, RPxDC but that doesn't mean there couldn't be others 


	2. Prologue

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It has been a year since I updated this fic and more than 2 years since I started writing it. Since then my writing style has changed (to the better I hope) and my English has improved. So I decided to re-work all the existing chapters before adding a new one. You will find that I also added parts to several chapters.

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Legend of the Knights of Destiny

Prologue

Milliardo and his younger sister Relena were playing in the inner Courtyard, when the crown prince noticed the other boy. There were not very many children living at the Royal Palace and Milliardo was sure that he would have remembered if he had ever seen that lad before. The boy was younger than Milliardo was, maybe his sister's age. He was sitting beneath one of the large oak trees just watching them.

Curiously the young prince stepped closer.

"Good day," he greeted the stranger politely. "I do not recognize your face, are you new here?"

The boy nodded once.

"What's your name?" the young prince asked.

"Heero, Heero Yuy."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Heero Yuy," Milliardo said with a polite nod. Even at his tender age he had already learned to carry himself in a way suited for the heir to the Sank Kingdom. "I'm Milliardo Peacecraft. This is my sister, Princess Relena."

"I know," the other boy answered.

"Would you like to play with us?"

When Heero nodded again, Milliardo simply took hold of the boy's hand and pulled him along as he went back to where his sister was sitting in the grass. For a while the three kids played together. They chased each other through the yard and the garden, but eventually got tired of it and looked for something else to do.

"Let's fight!" Milliardo suggested.

Using wooden sticks as pretend weapons the two boys engaged in a long sword fight with Relena watching them. The young prince soon recognized that, although the other boy was much smaller, Heero was no less skilled than he was. Once they realized that neither of them could beat the other they gave up and "declared a truce". Some time later the boys were sitting by the pond in the garden, skimming small rocks on the clear water surface.

"Milliardo, Heero?" Relena was looking for them.

The blond prince smirked, crystal blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Let's hide."

Heero didn't resist when Milliardo pulled him to a nearby oak tree. The prince helped the younger boy up into the branches and then, with the experience of someone who had done this many times before, he pulled himself up. They climbed almost all the way into the top. From there the two boys were able to look over the walls that surrounded the palace.

"Wow," Heero exclaimed. It was an awesome sight.

"Heero!" The young prince smiled softly, as he settled down on a strong branch. "I have not had so much fun in a long time."

"I have never had fun like this," the other boy admitted.

"We should be friends," Milliardo suggested.

Heero hesitated just a moment, as if thinking about it. Then he nodded, giving the other boy a slight smile. "I think I would like that."

***

When the king stepped into the courtyard he found his daughter playing with flowers, but didn't see the young prince anywhere. Yet, knowing that the children could not leave the yard and garden unnoticed he was not really concerned. For a moment he watched Relena silently.

__

She looks more and more like her mother, he thought with a trace of sadness.

"Relena, where is your brother?" he asked as he walked over to her. The blond girl looked up and pointed at one of the large oak trees by the pond.

"They are hiding." She rolled her eyes as she added. "As if I wouldn't find them up there."

King Stephán laughed. _Yes, definitely her mother's daughter_.

Just then a gray-haired man walked into the yard. Relena greeted him with a wide smile.

"Paigan, look what I made for you."

The king felt a sting of jealousy as his daughter presented the flower wreath she just had finished to the elderly man. Paigan had been taking care of Princess Relena and Prince Milliardo from the day they were born. Stephán had not realized that his children had become more attached to their caregiver than to their own father.

__

I really need to spend more time with my children, he thought with a sigh.

"How kind of you, Princess Relena. But I think it would look even more beautiful on your head."

As Paigan placed the colorful wreath onto Relena's blond hair the king turned toward the garden.

"Milliardo, come down from that tree. It's time for your fencing lessons and it is not polite to leave Captain Khushrenada waiting."

"Coming, Father!"

Just moments later the crown prince jumped out of the tree together with another, younger boy. Stephán frowned and turned to the servant.

"Paigan, who is this boy and how did he get into the garden?"

"I have no idea, your Highness," the man replied, obviously shocked that the child had made it passed the guards unnoticed.

Stephán's frown deepened for the fraction of a moment but then disappeared as the two boys approached him. Milliardo greeted his father with a polite nod, while the other boy respectfully went down on one knee in front of his king.

"Rise, child!" Stephán said, giving his son a questioning look.

" Father, this is Heero Yuy. He is my friend."

"I see," the king replied as he let his gaze stray over the brown-haired boy. He looked dirty, probably from playing in the treetop, but his clothes didn't appear to be those of a simple servant or peasant's child. "Milliardo, please take your sister with you inside. Get cleaned up and ready for your lesson."

"Yes, Father," the prince responded obediently. Before departing he turned to his friend. "Good bye, Heero, I hope we can play again some time."

As Relena and Milliardo left the king crouched down looking at Heero intensively. The boy didn't seem intimidated. Prussian blue eyes meeting the monarch's gaze steadily.

"How did you get into this yard, child?"

"Sir Odin dropped me off this morning before the sun came up," the boy answered in a firm voice.

Paigan and the king exchanged a quick look at the mentioning of the name.

"Sir Odin Lowe?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"What is he to you? Your father?" Stephán wanted to know. Considering that he had not heard from his close friend in several years, it could be possible that Odin had a son of the boy's age. But Heero shook his head, his expression never changing.

"I don't have a father, Sire. Sir Odin took care of me until now, but he said he had taught me everything he could and there was nothing he could do for me anymore."

"So he just left you here?" the king asked shocked.

"He said I should tell you that I'm the proof you wanted. And he told me to show you this…" Heero pulled up his right sleeve revealing a birthmark on his upper arm. Stephán had to hold himself back, not to gasp in surprise. He exchanged another look with the gray-haired man beside him.

"Paigan," he said then. "See to it that the boy gets a bath and a warm meal. Later I want to talk to him some more. I'll be waiting in my study."

"As you wish, your Highness."

***

Milliardo accompanied his sister to her chamber, then went to his own suit to clean up and change into an outfit more suited for his lessons.

The young prince hurried, as he made his way through long hallways to the east wing where the armory and fencing room was located. Milliardo knew that every afternoon Captain Khushrenada practiced with his son, Treize. If he was lucky he could watch them for a while before his own training started.

Treize! Milliardo admired; no he idolized the older boy. Treize was skillful and fearless, sharp-witted and elegant. In spite of his age he was already one of the best swordsmen in the palace and only few could beat him in a fair fight. He was everything Milliardo wanted to be when he grew older.

The prince could hear the sounds of metal hitting metal as he approached the fencing room. Father and son were engaged in a fierce sword-fight. He remained in the doorway to watch the ongoing match silently.

__

He is amazing. I wish I could fight as well as he does.

The captain ended the match once he noticed Prince Milliardo.

"Well done, Treize," he told his son. "But you still need to improve on your defense. You are keeping yourself open for attacks from the left, you noticed that yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes, Father. I will work on it." Treize sheathed his sword and run his fingers through his hair, trying to push back a few ginger-blond strands that had fallen into his face.

The head of the royal guard turned toward the young prince with a respectful bow. "Your Highness, are we ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

Milliardo walked into the room to retrieve his weapon, while Treize turned to leave. The older boy gave him a friendly smile as they passed each other, then stopped at the door.

"Do you mind if I stay and watch, your Highness?" he asked.

"No…no, not at all." Milliardo shook his head even as heart almost skipped a beat.

__

He is going to watch me. I will have to do my best. I can't embarrass myself in front of him.

"Shall we begin, your Highness?"

The prince gave another nod, this time directed at the Captain, and took a deep breath. "Yes, Sir."

***

As soon as he entered his study, the king went to one of the heavy bookshelves, pulling out a book that looked like it was very old and very well read. He put it onto the desk and slipped into his chair, never opening the book, just staring at its cover, as he remembered the last conversation he and Odin had in this very room.

:::Begin of Flashback:::

"Odin, I tell you, you are a fool to believe in an old maid's tale like that."

"And I tell you that it is not a tale," the knight retorted. "Open the book and read it. It is right there in front of you, why can't you accept it?"

"Odin," the young king replied calmly. "I have heard the story many, many times. My mother used to tell it to us when we were children, remember. But that's all it is, a story. People accept it because it gives them hope and something to believe in during hard times."

Odin shook his head. "No. It happened and it is happening again. All the signs are there, just as the legend says they would.

Just when darkness starts to rise five children will be born under the same moon. They will grow to become the most powerful warriors on the face of earth and together they will bring an end to the darkness and restore justice and peace," the young knight cited from the book of the Knights of Destiny.

Stephán laughed at his friend's stubbornness and decided to humor him by playing along.

"Okay, let's assume for a moment you are right. Why would those all-powerful knights need us to protect them?

And protect them from what?"

Odin glared at him, barely able to keep the irritation out of his voice. He was angry that his friend was not listening to reasoning. Why didn't he understand that the Peacecraft dynasty had been the keeper of the book of the Knights of Destiny for generations because they were also their protectors?

"They are still children. Their powers will not be fully developed until they come of age. Now they are vulnerable and susceptible. If only one of them dies before their time has come, their mission can not be fulfilled. And if somebody would use them and their powers for evil…" He didn't even want to think of that possibility. "Clearly you must have noticed that bad things have been starting to happen everywhere. And as much as I hate to say it, it will get far worst before long."

"So, now you are a fortune teller as well?" the king asked sarcastically.

"Fine, keep mocking me, your Highness. I know that I'm right. I know that they have been reborn, and I know that others are aware of that too. I'll do what I can, with or without your help."

Stephán sighed. He could tell how angry his friend was. Under normal circumstances Odin would call him by his first name, not address him as "your Highness."

"Give me some kind of proof that any of what you are telling me is true and I'll be glad to give you any support you need."

"If that's what you want I'll send you proof." With that Odin turned and left, never to be seen or heard from again…

:::End of Flashback:::

…until today.

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He said he would send me proof. And so he did. He sent me a boy.

A boy who carried a mark identically to the one depicted on the cover of the book in front of him. And as much as he hated to admit it, Odin's predicament of the future had been true as well. Those past five years had been bad indeed. Hostilities with neighboring kingdoms had lead to bloody war. He shuddered by the thought of all the lives that had been lost. Not to mention that there had been several invasion attempts by the power hungry ruler of the Romefeller Empire. At least the Sank Kingdom was armed well enough to defeat itself. Several smaller countries had not been that lucky. And most recently there had been the death of King Trinton Barton, at a time as they just had started to work out a permanent peace treaty. Hopefully the change of leadership in the Crownwood Kingdom wouldn't lead to another war between their countries.

Personally he had suffered too. The lost of his beloved wife shortly after Relena's birth had been a hard blow.

A knock at the door ripped Stephán from his thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opened and Paigan entered the study. Next to him the blue-eyed boy, his unruly brown hair still damp from the bath he had been given. The king gestured to the chair across his desk, telling the boy to sit down.

As Heero slipped into the large seat his eyes fell on the book on the desk. Recognizing the symbol on the cover, the boy's left hand instinctively touched the spot on his right arm where his birthmark was.

"Did Odin tell you why he brought you here?"

The boy directed his blue eyes at the king and shook his head.

"He only told me what I needed to know."

"Then what exactly did he tell you?" the man asked.

"He told me to follow your orders like they were his own, your Highness."

__

Following orders… Stephán winced inwardly at the sound of those words coming out of the mouth of a child.

"What did Odin actually teach you?" he asked curiously.

"He taught me how to ride and how to use different weapons to defend myself. Anything I need to know." The answer came indifferently.

__

Odin, I think you confused raising a child with training a soldier, the king thought grimly.

Then there was another knock at the door.

"Father, may I come in?"

"Yes, Milliardo."

The young prince entered the room, giving his new friend a smile.

"Is Heero going to stay here with us, Father?"

"Hmm…" the King looked at his son, then at the other boy before he asked. "Would you like to stay here in the castle, child?"

"Yes, I think I would like that, your Highness." the boy answered, smiling back at Milliardo ever so slightly.

"Well, then …Milliardo why don't you show our guest the palace?"

The older boy nodded as he grabbed his friend's hand. Heero didn't resist as he was pulled along. The door closed behind them and a moment later the two boys were laughing about something.

__

Perhaps he hasn't forgotten how to be a child, after all.

The king looked at the gray-haired servant, still standing by the door.

"Can it be, Paigan?"

"I'm not sure, your Highness," the man answered. "But it seems to me it might be."

"But if it is true…then there have to be 4 others… somewhere. How are we supposed to find them?"

"I don't think we have to, your Highness. I believe when the time comes they will find each other."

***

At the same time in a small mountain village, half way around the world, a young boy looked up from his books. Lost in thought, with a faint smile on his lips he watched a group of kids chasing each other over the hillsides. For a moment he wished that he could run with them through the luscious grass.

"You are not paying attention." A calm, yet stern voice brought him back into reality.

"Master O, all the other children…"

"You are not like all the other children, Wufei," his teacher reminded him." Now finish your lesson."

The boy sighed, but obediently went back to his studies.

***

Somewhere not too far from the Sank Kingdom two boys was sitting on a rooftop. It didn't seem like anybody in the castle was missing them.

One of them was mourning the death of his father. He felt like crying, but his green eyes remained dry, as if there were just no more tears left to shed. The other boy, his chestnut hair tied into a short braid, was trying to comfort his friend the best he could. Somehow both of them knew that things were never going to be the same for them.

"It's going to be okay, Duo. As long as we are together it will be okay," the green eyed boy whispered, trying to assure himself as much as his friend.

"I would never leave you, Trowa," the other boy promised.

***

Meanwhile in a far of kingdom, surrounded by a waste desert, a young boy with hair the color of pure gold, was sobbing quietly into the blankets of his makeshift bed.

"Are you still upset?" a man asked.

"Why did my father sent me away?" the boy answered with a question. "Is it because of what I did? I didn't mean to. I just can't help it. I wasn't even trying to do anything." Tears streamed from his emerald blue eyes. "I wish I was just like my sisters, then they wouldn't hate me so much."

"Your family didn't sent you away because they hate you, Quatre," the man told the boy softly. "I'm taking you to Master H because you are special. He can teach you how to control your powers."

"I don't want to be special," the boy sniffled. "I want to go home."

"Please go to sleep now. We still have a long way ahead and we have to rise early in the morning."

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T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	3. Uncertain Futures

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Part 1 - Uncertain Futures

Five years later…

"Come in!" Relena called over her shoulder, at the knock at her door.

She was expecting one of her servants to come and help her with her hair, but was surprised when her brother entered the chamber, still dressed casually like he had just come from a ride through the countryside.

"Milliardo, shouldn't you get ready for the reception? I don't think Father will appreciate the crown prince looking like a commoner when the guests arrive."

The blond prince smiled charmingly at his sister. "Princess, aren't we looking lovely today."

Immediately Relena's eyes darkened with suspicion. "What do you want, your Highness?"

The prince feigned surprise. "What do you mean? Can't I simply give my little sister a compliment?"

"You could," the young girl retorted. "But usually you don't, not unless you are about to ask me for a favor."

Milliardo laughed as he sat down in one of the exquisite looking leather chairs near the window. "How did you get so smart, little Sister?" he asked, his hand reaching for the fruit bowl on the small side table. He picked up a grape, threw it into the air and caught it in his mouth.

"Growing up around you and Heero I had to be smart if I didn't want to get the short end of the stick all the time." Relena said defensively, going back to brushing her hair. "So, are you going to tell me why you came?"

Milliardo ate a few more grapes before he answered: "I need you to cover for me tonight."

The girl turned to him. "You are not going to leave the castle by yourself again, are you?"

"Just for a while. There are Gypsies in town, it will be a lot of fun."

"Milliardo, if you want to see the traveling folk, all you have to do is ask Father and he will arrange a performance right here at the palace."

"It's not the same, Relena. I like being outside the castle, amongst the people. If I will be their king some day I would like to know them. Besides, don't worry, Heero will be with me."

"But I am worried, Milliardo." Relena gave her brother a concerned look. "You are the crown prince and with all the enemies the Sank Kingdom has there is no telling what they would do to you if any of them would get their hands on you." But of course she knew only too well that her brother had already made up his mind and short of telling their father there was nothing she could do to stop him.

The prince smiled at her reassuringly, popping another grape into his mouth. "I'll be fine. We'll be back before Father goes to bed."

"You think you won't be missed tonight at the reception? And if Father finds out you are in so much trouble…"

Milliardo grinned grimly. "He won't find out. Duke Dermail will keep him busy with his usual flatteries. Gods, I hate that man. I believe he is the slimiest and most hypocritical person I have ever known."

"I think Father would agree with you on that, however the duke is still one of his nobles." Relena replied.

"Not to mention his niece… Relena, how can you stand that girl?"

"Actually," Relena said. "Dorothy is very intelligent and I do enjoy talking to her. Just because we don't have the same point of view about things doesn't mean we have to be enemies. Something the future king might take into consideration. So, what will I be telling people when they ask about you tonight?"

"I'm not well and in my quarters. Heero will be keeping me company." The prince smirked. "I think I'm already starting to feel ill. Do I look pale to you?"

Relena couldn't help but smile. She walked over to her brother, giving him a big hug as he got up from his chair. "Be careful, Milliardo." She urged him.

***

In appearance the two riders looked as different as can be. One of them, a man in his early twenties, with creamy white skin, piercing blue eyes and ginger colored hair. The other a boy still, about 12 or 13 summers old with golden tanned skin and slightly slanted obsidian eyes. His hair, as black as the feathers of a raven, was pulled together into a ponytail. One of them of noble blood, a knight loyal to the ruler of the Sank Kingdom the other a mere slave. Yet in spite of those differences, in heart and soul the two were more alike than anybody would have imagined.

The man looked back over his shoulder to see how his companion was holding up. It had been a long and arduous trip, and they both were worn out and tired. But the boy's pride would never allow him to show any sign of weakness. Although it had been more than six months since Treize had acquired him, the boy had only recently started to open up a little. During their trip Treize had learned little bids and pieces of his slave's past, but he still he had no idea how Wufei had been taken from his home and ended up at a slave market half a world away from the place he was born.

"Is everything all right, Wufei? You are very quiet," Treize said.

"Just tired."

The Captain nodded understandingly.

They rode on, silently; each of them absorbed in their own thoughts. As darkness started to fall over the countryside they could make out the lights of the town ahead of them.

__

Almost there! Tonight we will be finally sleeping in a real bed again. The tall, ginger-blond man sighed in relief. Once they reached the town, the royal palace was not far anymore. It's been more than three years that I left this place, but it still feels like coming home.

Treize Khushrenada had started his military career at the Royal Palace, and like his father and father's father he had expected to be put in command of the king's personal guards some day. But as a young lieutenant he had been assigned to an outpost near the border to the Romefeller Empire. His actions and the way he handled several incidents had gotten him promoted to captain rather fast. Somehow he had feared that he would be doomed to spend the rest of his career at this post. But very much to his surprise a messenger sent by the king informed him that he was to return to the Royal Palace as soon as possible. And here he was, still wondering why he had been called back so suddenly, but at the same time glad about it.

***

"Trowa?" the braided boy called out once more. He had been looking for the crown prince for quite a while now.

Ruling King Dekim and his nephew had returned from a trip earlier that day. Since Duo didn't find his friend in his chambers he assumed that Trowa was outside in the yard.

"Up here," came a voice from above.

Duo looked up and gasped. The prince was balancing on the narrow battlement ledge atop of the castle's outer wall.

"Are you trying to break your neck?" the braided boy scolded

The prince just snorted as he jumped onto one of the lower rooftops used a tree branch to swing to another roof, and after a graceful flip landed right next to Duo.

"Cats always land on their feet, remember."

__

Yes, but only when they are cats, the braided boy thought. Aloud he said: "Sometimes I have the feeling you do these things only to shock me."

Trowa gave a tiny smirk at the remark as he sat down in the grass. With his usual cheerful smile Duo settled down next to him. "Come on tell," he demanded.

"Tell what?"

"You have been gone for five days. There has to be something to tell about."

Trowa just sighed.

Dropping his cheerful mask, the braided boy looked at his friend in concern. "Is something wrong? You know you can tell me."

"I know. It is just… Duo, things are so bad. The people are suffering and we live our lavish life and don not even realize it. Our dogs would probably starve on the food a peasant has to survive on. It is the wars. They are killing this kingdom. With most of the men fighting or dead only women and children are left to work the fields. Uncle will not lower the taxes because he says that the war is costing us as well. Duo, why do we have to fight anyway?"

"I don't know," the braided boy answered, his voice barely above a whisper. Being a war orphan he had asked himself the same question many times. He had been very small, almost too young to remember the day when his village was attacked and burned down. He had been taken to Crownwood castle along with other prisoners of war, and somehow King Trinton had taken a liking on him and kept him in the castle as a servant and companion for his son, sparing him from a life of slavery. Technically of course he still was a war slave, but neither the king nor Trowa had ever treated him like one. In fact he had been granted almost the same privileges as Trowa.

"Father was on the right path when he tried to work out a peace treaty with the Sanc Kingdom. If he was still alive things would look a lot different now."

Trowa seemed angry and frustrated. Duo couldn't remember having seen him like this in a long time. After the death of his father the prince had started to hide his emotions from most people. But he never was able to fool Duo. The braided boy could read him like a book.

"Try to remember it's only a matter of time. When you become king you can follow your father's path and finish what he started." Duo tried to be encouraging and uplifting. Trowa just looked up, his emerald green eyes fixing on his friend.

"Duo, I don't think is it is as much a question of when I become king as if I become king."

"What do you mean?" The braided boy frowned. "You are the crown prince and your uncle is only the temporary ruler of this country. Once you come of age you will be crowned."

"Yes, that's how it ought to be," Trowa agreed. "But I have the feeling my uncle has no intention of giving up the power that he has now."

"But…But what can he do? I mean he can't just kill you, right? …Right?" Duo asked, looking at his friend concerned. "I mean there is still that curse…"

Trowa laughed sadly. "You mean the prediction that any member of the royal family who spills the blood of another family member will die as well? I'm somehow starting to believe that this was something made up to keep overly eager heirs to the throne from killing each other. Besides Duo..." He looked at his friend, about to reveal something he had never told anybody before. "…Duo, I believe my father's dead was more than a mere accident. I think my uncle had something to do with it."

Duo's eye's widened at the accusation. "What are you going to do?"

Trowa shrugged. "What can I do? I have no proof. I can only wait."

***

The marketplace was filled with people, sounds and a mixture of different smells that made the experience so unique.

__

Sure, father could have those traveling people perform at the palace, but you just can't replicate this atmosphere, Milliardo thought, taking a deep breath, as he and Heero strolled around. Wearing a hooded cloak to hide his long, telltale hair, the prince took his companion by the arm and pulled him deeper into the crowd. Heero followed without resisting. It seemed that since the day he had come to live at the palace Milliardo had always been the one taking the lead and he was the one to follow.

For a while they stopped and watched a black-haired gypsy perform "magic" - making small items disappear into thin air. The crowd gasped in awe every time he performed his little trick.

Prussian blue eyes watched attentively. Heero knew it was all just an illusion, but he wasn't able yet to figure out how the man did it. Suddenly he was nudged in the rips.

"You know I wonder if you only tag along to do me a favor?" the prince asked.

"I'm having fun," Heero insisted.

"Good, because you are doing a hell of a job hiding it."

As the two teens shoved their way through the crowd again there was suddenly a hand on the prince's arm. Milliardo tensed a little, but relaxed as he turned to see a old woman in gypsy clothes.

"Do you want to know what the future holds for you, my young lords? I can tell you, and it will cost you only two gold coins for the both of you."

__

No fortuneteller needed for that, Milliardo thought sarcastically, but nevertheless followed the woman into a small tent, before the younger boy could stop him. The flickering candles and the aroma of incense created a somewhat mysterious atmosphere. In the dim light he could barley make out a small table with a crystal ball on it.

The old woman sat down at the table and gestured to the chair across from her.

Shall we?"

"You first." Milliardo pushed Heero toward the table, and at the other boy's reluctant grunt he added. "Come on, it will be fun." The young prince pulled two coins from his pocket and threw them into a dish on the table. Heero played along as usually and took his seat. The older teen watched as the woman began to move her hands over the crystal ball, creating a display of sparkling colors within the globe. Suddenly she stopped, her face taking on a surprised look. She repeated her actions and then stopped again, her look somewhat concerned.

"What is it?" Heero asked flatly.

Milliardo swallowed hard. Suddenly he wasn't sure anymore if this had been a good idea_. What if she really can tell the future? Do I really want to know?_

"I can't see anything," the old woman admitted. "Nothing at all." She looked up; her wise eyes meeting Heero's blue orbs. "It's like your future hasn't been written yet, child."

Realizing that it would look bad when he backed out now, Milliardo changed places with his friend and the old gypsy woman began doing, whatever it was that she had to do to see his future. But again she seemed surprised at the result.

"What, no future for me either?" Milliardo tried to sound sarcastic.

"Oh no. I can see your future clearly. Great powers will be bestowed on you…sooner than you might expect…and with those powers also comes great responsibility, not only for yourself. But I also see another path here. That of a warrior, a masked man with a sword, a soldier perhaps…If I wouldn't know better I would say you have two different futures ahead of yourself."

Now the prince really smirked. A soldier…like that could ever happen? Maybe I ought to take her to Father and have her tell him…

Nevertheless, he thanked the old woman with a polite nod before they left. If nothing else at least they had gotten some amusement out of her little show. The two teens stepped back into the street, still deciding what to do next, when Heero nudged Milliardo's shoulder.

"I think I can do better than that old gypsy. Our immediate future will be rather unpleasant if we don't get out of here."

Looking into the direction his friend pointed Milliardo froze. "Royal Guards? Are they looking for us?"

"It doesn't seem like it. They don't appear to be looking for anybody particular. Maybe just a routine patrol. Nevertheless, we should not take the chance to be seen."

"Yes, we might be able to fool the people, but the guards will definitely recognize us," Milliardo agreed. Making sure his hood was pulled up all the way and turning his head as one of the guards looked in their direction, he followed Heero.

***

The two riders reached the town long after dawn, but the streets were still filled with people. Music and laughter was coming from the marketplace, were some kind of festivities appeared to be going on.

Wufei watched his surroundings curiously, while trying hard to ignore the looks he was getting from people around him. Most of them had probably never seen a person of eastern descent before. So, he couldn't blame them for staring really, but he felt uncomfortable nevertheless.

__

I should be used to that by now, shouldn't I?

Treize must have felt his slave's unease, because he held back his horse till he rode right beside him.

"So many people." Wufei looked at Treize. "What is the reason for the celebration?"

His master shrugged. "I don't think there is a reason. The people are just trying to enjoy themselves and relax after a hard week's work. The king pays the traveling folk a small fee for performing here in town. It keeps the subjects happy. And happy subjects usually are loyal subjects."

"Hmmm…" Wufei was surprised. "Your king appears to be a wise man." Then there was a long moment of silence before the boy suddenly asked: "Does your king know about me?"

"He knows that I'm bringing a slave with me" Treize answered, but realizing that was not what Wufei was talking about, he added. "No, I didn't get around to letting him know that you are a sorcerer. But you shouldn't worry about it."

Perhaps I shouldn't, Wufei thought. But I just can't help it. What will happen to me if the king doesn't agree with having a sorcerer living in his castle? Will I be sold again?

The thought made Wufei shiver. Most people he had come across since he had been captured had been afraid of magic. In fact his recent master was the only person that seemed impressed and not scared by his powers. Treize was different than most people in many aspects. And most of all, the captain had never lied to him. So perhaps when Treize said there was nothing to worry about he should just trust him.

***

After riding patrol for several years vigilance had become second nature to Treize. So it was no surprise that the captain was instantly suspicious when he noticed two cloaked figures sneaking away from the market. The way they were hiding themselves in the shadows caught his attention, especially when he noticed that they seemed to be hiding from a group of royal guards patrolling the market place and surrounding area.

"Stay here!" he ordered Wufei as he dismounted his horse and handed the boy the reins. "I'll be back in a moment."

Moving quickly through the small alleys and around a few buildings the captain was able to close in on the two figures without being noticed by them. Since it was hard to tell what kind of weapons, were hidden beneath those long cloaks Treize decided to err on the side of caution and reached for his own sword.

A sudden gust of wind blew the hood off the taller of the two figures, and the young man readjusted it quickly, but not before the captain was able to catch a glimpse at long, pale-blond hair. It was all it took for Treize to recognize the youth. And he also had a pretty good idea of who the second boy was. The captain smirked and removed his hand from his sword.

The two boys, completely fixated on the patrol, never even noticed him sneaking up from behind until Treize grabbed the smaller youth by his arm.

The boy jerked around with a snarl. "Take your hands of me, or I'll kill you."

The captain raised one eyebrow in amusement. "You and what army, Lord Yuy?"

"Hn." The dark-haired boy snorted, giving him a glare that would have made a lesser man cringe.

"Treize!" the prince exclaimed in a mixture of shock and surprise.

"Your Highness." Treize gave him a polite nod then added. "Somehow I doubt the king knows that the two of you are out here playing a game of hide and go seek with his guards?"

"Are you going to tell him?" Milliardo asked quietly.

Treize shook his head. "I don't believe it is my place to tell. Unless of course I'm being asked, then I will not lie."

The prince nodded understandingly. "Thank you."

"However," Treize added. "I do expect you to return to the royal palace immediately. Understood?"

"Understood." Milliardo confirmed and Heero just nodded.

"I'll take your word for it, your Highness." The ginger blond man gave them a firm look.

***

Wufei gave his master a questioning look when he returned. But Treize didn't seem inclined to give him any kind of explanation and just mounted his horse.

"Lets go!" he said. "I can't wait to reach the palace, get out of these clothes and take a long hot bath."

A few moments later the two riders came across a group of the royal guards. Treize smiled and reined his mount to a stop next to the patrol.

"Lieutenant Otto, it's been a while."

"It sure has, Captain," the other man replied. "Welcome home. I heard that you were coming back but didn't expect it to be so soon. I'm looking forward to having you back in the ranks. Or will you be taking over command?"

The captain shrugged. "That I don't know yet, Lieutenant. His Highness has not given me his reasons for calling me back. We should find out soon I suppose."

The dark-haired lieutenant turned his attention toward Wufei. "This must be your slave I've heard people talk about? They also say that you paid a good part of your annual commission for him. I can see why."

Wufei glanced at his master. Treize had never mentioned how much he had paid for him.

The captain gave an exasperated huff.

"People tend to talk a lot when the day is long. You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"That's true," Otto confirmed.

"What else have they been talking about?"

"Not much really. Except last summer when there had been talk about a wedding. Care to enlighten me with some more information?"

The smile fell out of the captain's face and his expression darkened in the blink of an eye.

"I think, Lieutenant, we should be moving on. It's been a long trip. And I believe you are still on duty. We will have time to talk some more later on." He nodded and spurred his horse into a light trot.

__

What just happened? Wufei' brows furrowed in confusion, as he followed Treize. He was curious to what the lieutenant's had been talking about, but considering the way that his master had reacted, he didn't dare to ask about it.

***

The boy hurried through the woods, looking up at the dark clouds that covered the night sky in worry, hoping that he would make it home before the rain started. No such luck… The sky opened up and rain started pouring down, soaking his shabby clothes in moments.

The castle was too far, but the boy knew of a cave nearby where he could find shelter. He was running now. Occasionally bolts of lightning traveled across the sky and illuminated the way for him.

He had left the castle at dusk, after finishing his chores in the stable, to collect some herbs. The boy remembered sitting down to take a rest, but didn't realize that he had fallen asleep till the first lightning bolt and the rolling of thunder woke him.

Finally he reached the cave. Shivering in the cold night air, he shook his head like a dog in an attempt to get some of the water out of his blond hair. He looked around, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light, and smiled when he saw the remains of a makeshift fireplace and some pieces of wood in the depth of the cave. Everything seemed just like he left it. He came here quite often, not just to find shelter from the elements, but because he felt save here. Whenever he managed to sneak out of the castle he could come here and find a few hours of peace.

Still shivering he dropped down to his knees next to the fireplace. He put some new pieces of wood onto the charred remains of an earlier fire, then placed his hands above the wood, closed his eyes and concentrated intensely. After only a few moments a soft glow radiated from his hands, heating and igniting the wood beneath them. The boy smiled softly as the warmth of the fire started to spread. He had never told anybody about his special abilities and he hoped that nobody, especially his master Duke Dermail, would ever find out about them.

The Duke was a wicked man, and Quatre was sure that if he were ever to find out he would force him to use his powers for evil.

__

I could never, the boy thought. _I would rather die than bringing harm on anybody._

When the fire started to generate enough heat Quatre began to undress, slipping out of his wet shirt and pants and laying them out to dry. He settled down close to the fire, legs drawn to his chest and chin on his knees, stared into the flame and listened to the soft noise of the rain. He knew from experience that downpours like this usually lasted for a couple hours. With the Duke away for a few days nobody was going to miss him at the castle before dawn when he had to feed the horses, so he could just give in to his exhaustion and get a few hours of sleep.

Quatre sighed as he closed his eyes, his hair shimmering like gold in the light of the flickering flames.

Sometimes he wondered what he had done to deserve a life like this, but then he told himself that it could be worst. At least he loved what he was doing and was good at it. He took a lot of pride in the fact that he was considered one of the best stable hands amongst many nobles. But this of course meant that he was probably stuck with his current master forever. He had overheard Dermail tell another noble that he considered him too valuable to sell him at any price. Running away was out of question as well. He had tried more than once, unsuccessfully, and the punishments had been brutal. Even though the Duke considered Quatre too valuable to sell, it didn't stop him from having the boy almost beaten to death.

***

As soon as the sorceress entered the dining room, Emperor Tubarov could tell that something was wrong. An aura of wrath surrounded her like a dark cloud. Yes, she was definitely in a bad mood.

"What seems to be the problem, Lady Catorce?" he asked.

"No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to get my hands on them."

"Are you still trying to find those legendary knights?" Tubarov asked, leaning back in his seat. "You have been on this for nearly 10 years now. Perhaps, Milady, you should consider the possibility that you are chasing ghosts."

One of the servants pulled a chair out for her and the black-haired woman sat down across from the Emperor.

"I'm not chasing ghosts. And if those incompetent fools of yours wouldn't have messed up 10 years ago, they would be either dead by now or in our hands," she growled.

"My men would not have failed if Odin Lowe and his troops wouldn't have interfered." Tubarov gestured for the servants to start serving the meal.

"I suppose it wasn't their fault either that they let Lowe kill himself before I could make him reveal where he hid that boy." She snarled, her eyes sparkling in anger. "That boy would have made all the difference. Once I have one of them finding the others will be no problem. - Tubarov, I don't think you realize the seriousness of our situation. We are running out of time. You might think you are very powerful, but believe me not even our combined powers are enough to stop the Knights of Destiny once they have found each other and have access to all their abilities. Nobody has ever been able to destroy them. However if we can get our hands on them and make them work for us we could rule the world." She smiled at the thought of that. Yvonne Catorce, Empress of the world… It certainly had a nice ring to it.

"What about your friend Quinze? I thought you said he had found one of the whelps for you?" the Emperor retorted. He hated it when she acted like she was the only smart one around here. If he wouldn't need her magic powers so desperately…

"Quinze contacted me after he captured the boy, but that's the last I heard of him. Something must have gotten wrong," the sorceress admitted.

" I hope you are not spending all your energy searching for those phantom knights," Tubarov said.

Yvonne gave him a thin smile. "Don't worry, I have not neglected your little "pet project". Those dark warriors of yours are coming along quite nicely."

"When will be able to use them?"

She smiled again. "Patience, your Highness, patience. Magic like that takes time. You wouldn't want me to make a mistake and loose your army in the midst of a battle, would you?"

Of course he wouldn't want that to happen. But he was not sure now much more patient he could be.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	4. Changes

**Part 2 - Changes **

Treize couldn't help but notice that King Stephán looked tried_. Probably too many worries and too little sleep,_ he thought.  
The guard who had escorted him to the king's study retreated after a quick salute, and the captain dropped down to one knee and bowed his head respectfully. "Your Highness, you wanted to see me?"  
"Raise, Sir Treize. It is so good to see you again." Stephán gestured at one of the chairs. "Please make yourself comfortable. I hope you don't mind that I asked to talk to you at such an ungodly hour?"

"Not at all, your Highness," the captain replied, taking a seat across from the king. He had always been one to wake up before dawn and life as a soldier had only strengthened that habit.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I have asked you to return so suddenly and I see no reason to beat around the bush. I need you here because I'm going to put you in command of Prince Milliardo's personal guard. I'm replacing all the men currently in charge of his security. Its not that I don't trust them, but rather that my son has become quite skilled in manipulating them."  
Treize nodded in silent acknowledgement. 

"I'll be very honest with you, Captain. Milliardo is not that little boy anymore that you might remember. He has come to an age where he is trying to test his boundaries, as well as my patience. In other words he has become increasingly difficult to deal with of late. But I suppose I can't blame him entirely." Stephán sighed. "I overlooked a lot of his faults when he was younger. I was only trying not to be as strict as my father used to be, when I grew up. And of course Milliardo is not the only problem. As you might remember, whatever he is doing, Heero is right there beside him."

The captain found it hard to suppress a smirk. Oh, yes he remembered.  
The king looked at him with a firm gaze. "Treize, I need somebody who is capable and not afraid to keep them both in the straight and narrow. Do you think you are up to a task like that?"

"I can give it a try, but I will probably need your assistance, your Highness."

"I assure you that I will give any support you need." the king promised.

"What about the rest of the guard? Will I be able to pick my own men for the duty?" Treize wanted to know.

"Yes, I suppose that would be the best," Stephán nodded. "I want you to be fully in control. My greatest concern is my son's safety. Running wild with little or no escort at all is not wise at times like this. Do whatever you think is necessary to ensure their protection. I know Milliardo won't like it, but he has to learn to act a little more responsible."

"With your permission, your Highness, I will start putting together a list of people that I find suitable for the prince's guard."

"Very well, Treize." The king gave another nod. "By the way I also would like you to take over Milliardo's and Heero's weapons training. Your father was a great swordsman and his expertise is greatly missed. He taught them well, but I'm sure that there might be still a few things they can learn from you."

"They might," the captain answered humbly.

"Well, with that out of the way, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about. I've heard the slave you brought with you is a sorcerer. Is that true?"  
Treize winced inwardly, moving a little uncomfortable in his chair.  
_I forgot how fast news travels here at the palace._

"He is still a boy, your Highness and his powers are limited. I assure you if I was not certain that I could not control him I would never have brought him with me."  
Stephán laughed mildly. "Relax, Treize. I'm just being curious. We haven't had a sorcerer in this palace since long before you were born. I would really like to meet him."

"Oh," Treize exclaimed, feeling a little sheepishly, but at the same time relieved. Even though he would never admit it, he had been a little worried about the king's reaction.  
"Would you might bringing him by later on today?"  
"Of course not, your Highness."

***

"Quatre!" Dorothy of Catalonia, niece and ward to Duke Dermail, shouted as she burst into the stable.  
"Yes, Miss Dorothy?" the young teen answered without stopping what he was doing.

"Have you groomed my mare yet? I'm planning on taking a ride this morning."

"I'm sorry, I'm still feeding the horses. You will have to wait a little longer, Milady." Quatre filled another bucket with oats and carried it over to the other side of the stable.

Dorothy pressed her lips together, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "I want my horse to be groomed now!" She ordered sternly.

The blond boy sighed and put the heavy bucket down. "There is a brush and a curry comb right over there on the shelf," he told the girl, who was just about the same age as he.

"What?" she asked confused.

"As I told you, I'm busy right now. If you can't wait until I'm done you will have to groom your horse yourself." 

"You… you… How dare you to talk to me like that, impudent little slave?" she snapped furiously. "You know I could have you whipped for that."  
"I suppose you could," Quatre admitted, going on with his work. "But it wouldn't get your mare groomed any faster."

"Hn." The blond girl snorted as she spun around on her heels, leaving the stable as quickly as she had entered it.  
A short time later Quatre entered the adjacent stable, where the mares were housed that were about to foal or just had given birth. He found Dorothy kneeling next to a chestnut colored steed.

"Is she okay?" she asked, as she heard the stable boy walk in. The mare was one of her favorite horses and she was expecting her first foal.

" She has been a little stressed, so I put some herbs into her food to calm her down. It should not be long anymore, I guess only a few days until she gives birth." Quatre answered. "Don't worry about her, Miss Dorothy. I'll take good care of her."

"Worry?" The girl snorted as she got up. "It's only a horse. What makes you think I would care about something that insignificant as an animal?"   
"Whatever you say, Milady?" The boy smiled softly, as he watched her leave. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew her too well. She actually **did** care, much more than she would ever admit to anybody, including herself.

***

Wufei opened his eyes and found it was still relatively dark around him, even though his internal clock told him it was morning. His internal clock had never failed him. He could hear noises coming from somewhere - something like furniture being moved, footsteps on a stone surface - but his brain was still too drowsy to fit it all together. Then the footsteps came closer. There was a sound of heavy fabric being moved, and the dim light around him brightened. 

"Wufei?" a soft, low voice asked.

"I'm awake," the boy replied. Suddenly he remembered why he wasn't curled up in his bedroll on the ground next to his master, but sleeping in a rather comfortable bed. He remembered that they had reached the royal palace the night before, and how awestruck he had been when he first saw the majestic white castle. It was larger and more magnificent than anything he had ever seen before.  
The room he was sleeping in had only a small window, hence the dim light, and was separated by a heavy black curtain from the main chamber. Wufei sat up and swung his feet over the edge of his bed. His clothes hung neatly folded over a chair within his reach. He slipped into a pair of white loose fitting pants, tied the sash that was holding them up, then put on a dark sleeveless top. He left the small room and stepped into his master's chamber. Treize was already fully dressed in his usual uniform.

" Did you sleep well?" the captain asked, aware that the boy occasionally suffered from nightmares. 

"Like a rock."

Treize smirked. "Yes, I suppose there is nothing like a soft bed after sleeping on the ground for a week."  
"What do you want me to do while you are going to see the king?" Wufei inquired. At the outpost he had taken care of the horses, kept their quarters clean and helped around the camp, but he wasn't sure what was expected of him here at the palace.  
"My meeting with the king is already over. You slept so blissfully I saw no reason to wake you up before I left. Later I'll show you around the castle so that you don't get lost if you ever have to go anywhere without me, but first we will have breakfast."

Right on cue there was a knock at the door. Upon Treize's command to come in, a servant appeared with a tray of delicious smelling food. Wufei felt heat creeping into his cheeks when his stomach started growling almost instantly, reminding him that he had been too tired the night before to eat anything.  
"Sit down." His master put a plate with a generous helping of food in front of the boy. "Eat up!" he commanded. "You have been draining yourself. No more spells now till you are back at full strength."

Wufei blushed again, but nodded obediently. He wasn't sure how Treize knew that he had been using protection spells during their trip, to keep them safe during the night. Sometimes his master was just overly protective of him. He could handle much more casting a few spells.

***

The captain filled his own plate with a few pieces of fruit and some cheese. He never felt very hungry in the morning. For the longest time they ate silently, until Wufei spoke.

"Is something wrong? You look distraught this morning. Has it anything to do with your meeting with the king?"

Treize sighed. He could deny it, but that wouldn't change the fact that the boy was right.  
"Let's just say I wasn't called back here for the reason I had hoped," he said. "I'll not be taking over command of the palace guard. Instead the king put me in charge of crown prince Milliardo's personal security."  
"Is that bad?" Wufei gave his master a puzzled look.

"I'm not certain. But I can imagine that the prince will probably not be pleased that his father takes away most of the freedom he enjoyed until now and puts me in control of his every move. And truthfully I would rather face a troop of enemy soldiers than Milliardo when he is in a bad mood."

The young sorcerer tried hard not to grin.

"Well I'm glad at least one of us finds that amusing." Treize snapped in fake exasperation.

"I'm sorry." Wufei replied. "I just can't imagine that it will be that bad. You have trained new recruits before, haven't you? And even a slave."  
"Yes, but if that slave is any indication, I'm doomed to certain failure."  
Wufei laughed quietly and Treize couldn't help but smile. The two of them had certainly come a long way since the day when he had bought the then frightened and angry boy. (1)  
"I'm not that bad, am I?"

"No you are not." Treize assured him. "You are the perfect slave. I wouldn't have it any other way." 

"Do you know the prince well?" Wufei wanted to know.  
"I used to. We spent a lot of time together when we were younger. Sometimes my father would take us hunting. I think Milliardo saw in me something like a older brother. There even was something akin to sibling rivalry between us when we got older. He always wanted to be better than I, in everything. " The captain smiled softly at the memories. "But of course that was a long time ago. People can change a lot in three years. God knows I have. And I'm sure so has he. Oh by the way, the king wants to see you later."

"Why?" There was a slight trace of concern in the young sorcerer's voice.  
"He just said he was curious to meet you. You have nothing to worry about, Wufei." The captain rose and put his hand on the boy's shoulder in a re-assuring manner before he walked to a large trunk at the other side of the room. Wufei started to clear the table and putting all the dishes back onto the tray.  
Treize rummaged through the trunk until he found the item he was looking for. "I'm afraid that for the time being you will have to wear your collar again."   
The boy spun around. There was a short sparkle of fear in his eyes before he realized that his master was only holding a simple leather slave collar in his hand. Yet his reaction didn't go unnoticed. Treize smiled sadly as stopped in front of him, gently picking up Wufei's chin with one hand, and forced him to look up to him.

"I would never hurt you. I thought you would know that by now."  
"I do," the boy replied quietly, as Treize clasped the collar around his neck. 

***

"I'm coming," Milliardo called out when somebody knocked at the door of his bedchamber. He slipping into his boots, opened the door, and blinked in surprise. He had been expecting Heero not one of his father's guards. The two teens had decided to leave for their morning ride early, before the king would get a hold of them and possibly make them attend a boring formal breakfast with Dermail. And if they were lucky, the duke and the other guests would be gone by the time they got back.  
"May I help you?" he asked.

"His Majesty the king wishes to see you, your Highness," the man informed him with a polite bow.

"Does it have time until later? Heero and I were just about to leave for a ride."

"I'm afraid not, your Highness. I was told to take you to him right away. His Majesty also ordered Lord Yuy to remain in his chambers until he was told otherwise."

"What?" Milliardo's expression changed from mildly surprised to completely shocked. "Where is my father?"

"In his study, you Highness," the guard told him.  
As Milliardo walked down the long corridor, he noticed that he was being followed. 

_Do I look like I need an escort? I **do** know my way around here, he_ thought irritated.   
He almost snapped at the guard before reminding himself that the man was only doing his job and following orders.  
A short time later he knocked at the door of his father's study, waited for the invitation to come in and walked into the room.   
The king dismissed the guard with a gesture and waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke.

"I pleased to see that you are feeling better this morning, Milliardo." His voice left no doubt that he knew about the night before. "Sit down."

"So he told you?" Milliardo snorted as he slipped into the chair; convinced that Treize had told on them even after promising not to.

"I have no idea who you are referring to, but nobody had to tell me anything. The day if I don't know anymore what is going on in this castle will be the day I step down from the throne." Giving his son a stern look, Stephán continued. "Milliardo, things are about to change around here. From now on I expect you to attend every social event given in the palace, starting with today's formal breakfast…"

"But Father…" Milliardo interrupted. " I do not like Duke Dermail. He is a hypocrite and I'm almost certain he is not an ally we can count on and trust."  
"Nevertheless you will attend breakfast and you will do so with a smile on your face. Believe me, you will have to deal with much more unpleasant things in your life than sharing the table with a person you don't like. You are the crown prince for god sake, start acting like it."

"I never asked to be the future king," the blond teen snapped.

"No child ever asks to be born as a prince, commoner or slave," his father told him sternly. "That's a choice made for us by a greater power. But we have to live with it and fulfill our place in life. Trust me Milliardo, everything happens for a reason. We might not see those reasons right away, but there will come a point in your life when we understand why things happened the way they did."

The young prince swallowed an angry reply.  
"As you know, I've ordered Sir Treize back to the palace. He will be in charge of your security, starting with forming a new team of personal guards. – And Milliardo, if I say he is in charge I mean it. You will not leave this castle without his approval."

Milliardo's mouth dropped. "Am I a prisoner or the son of the king? I do have to ask for permission to leave the palace?"

His father gave him an irate look. "Considering the way you have been behaving of late, I should have you ask for permission to leave your chambers."

"Father!" The young prince jumped up from his chair. "When are you going to stop treating me like a little child. I'm almost 17 years old."

"I'll stop treating you like a child if you stop acting like one. Start behaving like a responsible young man and you'll be treated like one. And don't raise your voice at me, Milliardo. **You** are the last person here who should be angry. I'm greatly disappointed in you. For your own selfish reasons you not only put Heero in a position where he had to choose between being loyal to you or honest to me, you even had your own sister lie for you."

Realizing how right his father was, the young prince lowered his head as the king continued.

"I know I'm as much to blame as you are. I have not given you the proper guidance that I should have and I have let you and Heero run wild for far too long. When I grew up, my father was very strict. When I was your age I was already fully involved in the daily routine of the royal court and I hated it. I didn't want to put this kind of pressure on you and let you be a child as long as possible. But you need to start growing up some time, and I think that time is now."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Father. I should not have acted the way I did." Milliardo knew that any argument from him was only going to fuel his father's anger even more. He was best off to go along with everything for now and try to better his position later when the king had time to cool off.  
"I accept your apology, son. But my decision still stands. You will not charm you way out of this one. You may go now. Tell Heero I expect the two of you formally dressed for breakfast."  
Milliardo opened his mouth for a reply, but realizing that arguing with his father right now would bring him nowhere, he just sighed.

***

Treize had not been exaggerating. This palace was bigger than Wufei had imagined, although Treize only had shown him a part of it.

It was hard to ignore the looks they were getting as they walked down the long, lavishly decorated corridors. There were quick, curious glances as well as open gawks.

Wufei instinctively moved closer to his master's side, grateful when the captain put an arm around his shoulder.

"Let's go see the king, and then I'll take you back to our quarters," Treize suggested.  
"What will you be doing later on?"  
"I have a few things to take care off," the ginger-blond captain explained as they headed toward the great hall, where the king would be most likely to find at this time of the day. "I want to present his Highness as soon as possible with the names of soldiers I would like in the prince's guard."  
The soldiers snapped to attention as they entered the thrown room and the king stopped the conversation he was having and turned his head.   
"Your Highness!" Treize bowed as they reached the throne and Wufei knelt down, lowering his head. "If this is a bad time, perhaps we should return later."  
"Not at all, Captain. I was just finished here."  
Still on his knees, Wufei carefully raided his head and glanced at the man in front of him.

_So, this is the king, _he thought.

He was a man of impressive statue, in his early 40th, with long, white hair and kind, pale-blue eyes.

"So, this is your slave, Treize?" the king rose and the young sorcerer quickly lowered his gaze. A pair of leather boots stopped right in front of the boy and a gentle hand raised his chin. "You forgot to mention he is quite handsome. I have never seen such exotic looks. What's your name boy?"

"My name is Wufei, your Highness."

"They say you are a sorcerer is that true?" the blond man asked as he let go of the boy's chin.

"I am able to use magic, that's true, but I do not believe I have the right to call myself a sorcerer yet." Wufei replied.

The king laughed; a pleasant sound that put the boy somewhat at ease. "You are very modest, I like that." He gestured Wufei to get up on his feet, and then directed his attention toward Treize. "Do you mind if I borrow the boy for a while? I would like to show him something."

"Not at all. I was just about to take him back to my chambers." the captain answered. He turned to Wufei, giving his slave an encouraging smile. "I'll see you later, Wufei."

"Yes, Master." 

"Come with me," the king ordered.   
The young sorcerer gave Treize a questioning look before he followed, but the captain just shrugged, indicating that he had no idea where they were going. The king lead Wufei through a maze of halls and corridors that seemed to go on forever. 

"Where are you from?" the man suddenly asked, with a look back the boy. "You don't look like you were born somewhere around here?"  
"No, your Highness," Wufei answered. "I'm from a village near the Yangtze River, as far east as you can possible imagine."  
"That is a long way from home."  
"Yes your Highness," the boy confirmed a trace of sadness in his voice.  
After a while they reached a tower at the most southern end of the palace. The king led the way, up a narrow stairway than ended at a heavy, wooden door. When the man opened the door it squeaked in its hinges as if it hadn't been used in a long time. 

"This is where our last court sorcerer used to work," king Stephán explained, stepping into the dimly lit room.

The moment Wufei followed him, he was hit by a wave of strange feelings. The king turned in concern as he heard the young sorcerer behind him gasp. 

"Are you all right, boy?"

"Yes, your Highness," Wufei replied, still catching his breath. "It's just… I still can feel his aura."

"You can?" The king looked at him in amazement. "Still after all these years?"

"How long has it been?" Wufei asked in a low voice.  
"More than three decades," the blond man told him. He walked over to one of the windows and opened the heavy blinds, filling the room with a burst of daylight.

"He must have been very powerful." Wufei blinked, struck with awe. He let his eyes wander over several tall bookshelves, then focused on a heavy table in the middle of the room filled with more books, vials, and some things he didn't even know what they were. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust.   
"I believe he was," king Stephán said. "I was still young, but I remember my father speaking of him with great regard. Nobody has been in this room since the day he died. I had been thinking of having it cleaned out a few times, but the servants didn't really like the idea of touching anything up here."  
Wufei walked through the room and stopped at one of the large shelves. He let his finger run carefully over the wood, unsure if he was allowed to touch anything. But when he didn't get a negative reaction he grew bolder. He stepped over to the table, blew the dust of a book that was lying in front of him, and picked it up. There was something about the way those items were arrange on the table that seemed so incomplete to him. It looked like the owner had only stepped away for a moment, planning to come back later and finish what he had been working on.

"Am I right to assume your sorcerer didn't die of old age, your Highness?"   
"No he didn't. He was old yes, but he died in battle defending my father."

"Perhaps that's why?" Wufei muttered more to himself. "Perhaps that's why his presence is still so strong. Maybe he had some unfinished business he was never able to take care off and part of him refuses to let go."  
"Wufei," king Stephán spoke, after watching the boy for quite a while.

The young sorcerer turned. "Yes, your Highness."  
"If it is all right with your master I'll give orders that you are allowed to come here whenever you want. Feel free to use any of the books or items you need."

The boy's jaw dropped, too surprised to answer right away. "But your Highness, are you sure about that? These books are so old and valuable. "

The king smiled softly. "They might be valuable for you. For me they are just dust collectors. If you don't use them they will probably just be sitting here for another thirty years."

"I don't know how to thank you." 

"Don't thank me yet," Stephan told him with a smirk. "I'm also planning on asking Treize to lend me your services as a sorcerer. So don't thank me before you know what you get yourself into."

For a moment Wufei felt like laughing out lout. He was allowed - no expected - to use magic. 

"When can I start?" he asked anxiously.

***

From the throne room Treize walked directly to the training grounds where he found Lieutenant Otto sparring with a handful of other royal guards.

"Treize, are you up for a match?" the dark-haired soldier asked.

The captain shook his head. "Perhaps another time. Can we talk somewhere?"

"But of course," Otto sheathed his sword, letting his opponent know that the fight was over, then followed Treize.

"I've heard the king put you in command of prince Milliardo's security," the lieutenant said, as they walked together toward the western wing of the palace where most of the soldier's and servant's quarters were.

"I'm not sure if I should congratulate or pity you."  
"That's the reason I'm here, Otto," Treize replied. "You and I have served together for a long time. I need somebody that I know and trust as my second."  
"Me?"

The captain gave him a smirk. "Is it too much of a challenge for you?"  
"I would be honored, Treize. But I don't think Captain Septm will like it. He has not been very happy with your return as it is."

Treize raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Why is that?"   
"I'm not sure, but I suppose he feels like your are threatening his position as head of security in the palace."

"This is absolutely ridiculous." Treize shook his head. "Besides, neither he nor I would have any saying in the matter, should the king decide to replace his current head of security."  
"True," Otto agreed. "But I'm certain Septm will not be pleased if you go around picking out men from his troops."

"I have permission from his Highness to do so, although I have no intention on stepping on anybody's feet. Thank you for the warning, Lieutenant. I'll try to be as diplomatic as I can. So, what about it, are you interested in becoming my second in command?"

The lieutenant nodded. "I'll be looking forward to something more challenging than riding patrol in town."

***

As soon as breakfast was over and the guests had left Milliardo withdrew into his study. His father asked Heero to accompany Relena on a ride through the countryside, leaving the prince to sulk in solitude. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when somebody knocked at the door.

"Come in," he called out, assuming that perhaps Heero and Relena had returned from their ride. But instead it was Treize Khushrenada who opened the door entered the room.  
"Your Highness," he greeted Milliardo. "Could I have a few words with you?"

The prince nodded. "Yes, of course. It's not like I have anything better to do anyway."  
"I take it you spoke to your father?" Treize asked a she closed the door behind himself.  
"Yes, I did." Milliardo snorted sardonically. "He informed me that he appointed you as my **dungeon guard**."  
"Perhaps this **isn't** a good time." The captain stopped, ready to turn and leave again. "I shall come back later, when you are in a less testy mood."

"No, wait, Treize, I'm sorry. I know this isn't your choosing. I'm just irritated. Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable." Milliardo rose and walked over to the window, where a carafe was sitting on a small table. "Wine?"  
"Please." Treize nodded.  
The prince filled two goblets with the dark red liquid, handing one off to the captain before he went back to his chair.  
_He hasn't changed much at all_, Milliardo thought_. Only his eyes; they seem much more mature now, wiser, and so much more serious._

"Your Highness, I don't think your father is trying to spite you. He is concerned for you safety, which I think is perfectly understandable considering that you are the crown prince as well as his son."

Milliardo gave a sarcastic grunt. "You are starting to sound like him, do you know that?"  
The captain took a sip from his wine.  
"I would like to make this easy as possible for all of us, your Highness. And it is not my intent to keep you imprisoned in the castle."

"So, I will still be allowed to go hunting with Heero?"

"I can't see why not?" Treize shrugged. "As long as you tell me ahead of time what your plans for the day are so that I can make the proper arrangements for your security."

"Still, I don't understand father." The prince sighed. "Why does he think I need somebody to keep track of every move I make? I had more freedom when I was twelve."  
"When you were twelve, you wouldn't have dared to sneak out of the palace," the captain remarked dryly. "My father would have made sure of that."  
'True," Milliardo admitted, a ghost of a smile curving his lips. He had always had nothing but the udder most respect for the former head of security. And just like Treize said, he would never have dared crossing him. "How is he?" he asked quietly.  
"He is doing fine…I suppose," Treize replied, a slight hint of guilt in his voice. Little more than two years ago his father had suffered serious injuries during battle. He survived but lost the use of his right arm almost complete. Unable to fulfill his duties any longer and forced to retire, he and his wife had moved to one of their estates in the south of Sank. "It's a long way to Harrisbourgh. I don't have the time to visit them as often as I should."  
"Father asked him to stay here at the palace and assist in the training of new guards. He refused."  
"I know." The captain took a sip from his wine before he continued. "It must have him hard for him. He never knew anything else but the life of a soldier. It was all he ever wanted to be. Staying here and watch somebody else do the job that he had been doing for so many years would probably have been too much to bear for him."

There was a moment of silence before Treize spoke again. "There is another reason why I came to see you, your Highness. I assume you father told you that he also wants me to take over your and Heero's weapons training."   
Milliardo just nodded.   
"I'm still in the habit of practicing early in the morning. Would that be acceptable for you, your Highness?"

"Yes, that will be just fine."  
"Excellent! Then I'll see you tomorrow at sunrise. I'm looking forward to find out if you will be able to make good on your promise."  
"Promise?" the prince echoed.  
"Have you forgotten what you told me just before out last sword-fight, the day before I left for Tewkesbury, your Highness?"

Milliardo's brows furrowed as he tried to recall the incident Treize was talking about.

::: Begin Flashback :::

When Milliardo walked into the fencing room just as Treize was already hard at work, putting his sparring partner through quite a workout. The prince remained in the doorway to watch the match…if it could be called that. A few minutes later the fight was over and Treize's latest unfortunate victim, a young lieutenant by the name of Otto, scrambled to his feet panting.  
"I believe his match goes to me." The young knight sheathed his sword and turned toward the door. "I see you are back for more, Milliardo. I have got to admit one has to admire your persistence."  
The prince snorted. "You are very confident of yourself, aren't you? Just wait, Treize. One of these days I'm going to wipe that grin right off your face."

"I would certainly love to see you try, but I'm afraid that this might be our last practice together."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I have been transferred to an outpost at Tewkesbury."

Milliardo's heart skipped a beat. He felt like somebody had run a sword into his belly. Treize was leaving? That possibility had never even occurred to him.  
"When are you leaving?" he asked quietly.  
"Tomorrow morning. But don't worry, I have all intention to come back some day."  
"Good!" Milliardo somehow managed to smile. "That gives me some time to practice. And when you come back, watch out, because **you** won't be the best swordsman at this castle anymore."  
Treize smirked. "I'll be looking forward to it."

::: End Flashback :::

"Your Highness!" The captain gave Milliardo a curt nod as he set down his goblet and rose. "With your permission, I shall leave."

The prince frowned slightly. _He hasn't called me by my name even once._

"Do we have to keep being this formal even in private?"  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"You used to call me Milliardo, remember?"  
"Back then we were children," Treize replied. "I'm not sure if it would still be appropriate."  
"Appropriate or not. We always considered each other friends, Treize. That hasn't changed, has it?"  
"Not as far as I'm concerned."

***

"Captain Septm is here, your Highness," the guard informed the king.  
Stephán nodded in acknowledgement. "Tell him I'm ready to see him."  
The guard saluted and left to return a few moments later with Septm.

When the captain asked for a meeting with him, king Stephán had wondered what the man wanted. He never really knew what to make of his head of security. As a soldier Septm was one of the best, but as a person he was about as lovable as a hyena.  
"Your Highness," the man bowed.

"What can I do for you, Captain? Please sit down."  
"It's about Captain Khushrenada, your Majesty. Or more precisely about the slave he brought with him."

"What about him?" the king asked surprised.

"I consider it my duty to inform you that I have misgivings about that boy remaining here in the palace."

"Are you concerned because he is a sorcerer?"  
"So, you know about that?"  
"Of course I do," Stephán replied. "You didn't think Captain Khushrenada would keep something like that from me, would you?"  
"No, of course not." Septm assured him quickly. "I didn't mean to imply anything like it. But I'm sure that you will agree with me that the boy has either to go or needs to be restrained from using magic."  
"I'm sorry, but I do can not agree with you. In fact I spent some time with the boy earlier today and I rather like him."

Septm's mouth dropped. "You were alone with him? With all due respect, your Majesty, do you even realize how dangerous…"  
"Relax, Captain. I'm certain that Wufei poses no threat to anybody. And as you know I have always considered myself a very good judge of character."  
"He could be powerful enough to destroy the castle and everybody in it."  
"Or he could be powerful enough to become our new court magician. Which reminds me. I have given him permission to use the Wizard tower, please make sure your men are aware of that."  
Septm gasped. "Your Highness, how can you be sure that you can trust him."

"I know Treize trusts him and that's enough for me. Treize's family has served this kingdom well for many generations; I have no reason not to trust his judgement. So unless there is anything else…"

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's Note:   
  
(1) I'm planning to write a side-story about Treize and Wufei and how the captain acquired his slave.

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	5. Creatures of the Night

**Part 3 – Creatures of the Night**

The clearing was draped in a dim light, illuminated only by a crescent shaped moon. The man hiding in the shadows had been sitting in the dark long enough for his eyes to adapt. The figure itself blended perfectly into his surroundings. His black clothes and dark hair made him nearly invisible, as he watched the two large cats. One of them was a lion, majestic looking with yellow golden fur and a full dark mane, the other one a panther, muscular with black fur shining in the light of the moon. Two powerful and deadly animals, yet they were playful as kittens as they chased each other over the clearing. Totally oblivious to their surroundings and the man stalking them, the mighty predators were unaware that they had become the prey tonight.  
Eventually the cats got tired of their little game and settled down.

With a thin smile, the hunter reached for his crossbow, pulled an arrow from his quiver and loaded the powerful weapon. The arrow he had chosen was specially prepared, its tip soaked with a strong sedative. He had no intention to kill tonight. The idea of taming and forcing his will on one of those wild beasts seemed much more intriguing to him. There was nothing more satisfying than the feeling of having power over another being.  
He raised his crossbow. Well aware that he would only be able to fire one good shot, he tried to decide which of the animals to aim for. Suddenly the black cat froze looking straight in his direction. Maybe the wind had shifted and carried his sense toward the large felines; maybe the sensitive ears had picked up a sound. Suddenly realizing the danger, both cats bolted.

The hunter fired his weapon instantly, swearing when he missed. Quickly he reached for another arrow, loaded aimed and fired just before the two felines disappeared in the thick underbrush. He couldn't tell if his arrow had found its target or not.

The man swore again as he headed back to the spot where he had left his horse. The large black stallion was waiting for him patiently. The hunter mounted the horse and drove his spurs into the soft flanks. He found the spot where the cats had entered the brush with ease. With the experience of somebody who had done this many times before he followed their trail through the woods. Even in the dim light he had no problem reading the tracks. After a while the hunter noticed several dark stains on the forest floor. He dismounted, pulled off his leather gloves and crouched down to touch one of the stains. When he brought his hand in front of his face, his fingers were smeared with a rust brown substance. Blood! So his second arrow had found its target after all. He smiled wickedly. Soon the drug would take its toll on the animal. It was just a matter of time. He only had to patiently follow the trail.

***

Yvonne Catorce glared into one of her crystals at the image of a figure in a dark cloak kneeling in front of her.

"I thought I told you not to contact me unless absolutely necessary?" she spat angrily.

"I know, Mistress," the man replied submissively, his eyes never looking up. "Forgive me, but I believe that I have news that you would want to hear right away."  
"What is it?" she asked in a still exasperated voice.  
"I found one of the Knights of Destiny."

"What? Where?" 

The man allowed himself a little chuckle. "He was practically under our nose all that time, we just didn't know it. I've learned that about six years ago a young child was brought to the royal palace and left there to be cared for by the Peacecraft family. Nobody seemed to know where the boy really came from and those who know are not allowed to talk about it. However I found out anyway that no other than Odin Lowe brought the boy to the castle…"

"…The kings ward, Heero Yuy? I'll be damned. And here I was thinking the whole time that boy was just a little bastard the king had out of wedlock with some no-name slut." The sorceress smiled complacently. "You are sure about that? Did you see his mark?"

The cloaked man chuckled again. "In fact I did. I was doing duty in the hall when I **accidentally** walked in on him in the bath. I could have sworn I heard him call for a guard, but maybe he didn't."  
"My, my, that was quite devious." She seemed amused. "Well done."

"Thank you Mistress. I've learned from the best. – But I'm afraid my other news are not as good."

"Let's hear them anyway."

"The king called Captain Khushrenada back to the castle and put him in command of the crown prince's security. The prince will no longer be able to leave the palace on his own, and I lost my position in his guard. I'm afraid I'll no longer be able to watch him as closely as I used to." The cloaked man continued. "Mistress, may I ask you a question?"

"Ask!" the woman said, feeling gracious.  
"Why haven't you killed the prince a long time ago? You certainly had the power to do so."

"Yeah I most certainly do. But for some reason I had the feeling that some day he might be of better use alive and it seems to me that day has come. Don't worry about him being put on a short leash by his father. In fact it might just suit my plans," the sorceress said thoughtfully. "I have an idea and I'll need your services again my friend. If everything works out how I imagine it will we will take care of the crown prince and his little friend Lord Yuy in one swift move."

"I live to serve you, Milady. Tell me what you want me to do and consider it done."

***

Under the cover of darkness Quatre had once again slipped out of the duke's castle and headed for the woods.  
He kept his eyes glued to he soft forest floor, searching for special herbs and roots that could be used to make brews and ointments.  
The air was a little chilly, but not cold enough to really bother him. The night-sky was clear and covered with stars. The moon was beautifully crescent shaped. Quatre loved the sounds of the night, or more precisely the lack thereof. Everything was so peaceful. Suddenly that sense of tranquility was broken by his own startled yelp as he ran into something rather large and semi soft. Startled he almost dropped the small basket he was carrying. Quatre looked up at the huge black stallion and rider that seemed to have come out of nowhere, and involuntarily took a step back.

"Forgive me, my Lord. You surprised me. I didn't except anybody to be around." he stammered sheepishly.

"Is that so?" the man, dressed in black spoke; his voice dark and husky. "Then I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I did not mean to scare you."

He dismounted his stallion, which was easily bigger than any horse Quatre ever had seen. The man himself was big too, towering over the blond boy, making him look almost small and fragile in comparison. Quatre swallowed. He had to force himself not to back off any further.

"What is a boy like you doing all alone in the woods at this time of the night? Don't you realize how dangerous this can be?" the man asked.   
"I thank you for your kind concern, my Lord, but I assure you I'm very capable of taking care of myself."  
The man smiled thinly. Quatre looked up and for a moment their eyes meet. The boy shivered under the cold and scrutinizing glare. There was absolutely no emotion in those dark eyes glaring down on him. Quatre could have sworn the man didn't have a soul.  
"Do you have a name?"  
"I'm Quatre."  
"Quatre! What an unusual name." the man mused. "I'm Ysard Catorce. I was tracking some prey, but it appears that I've lost it. And in the progress I have gotten myself lost as well, I'm afraid. Tell me where we are, Quatre."

"This is Oakwood County, my Lord. You are on Duke Dermail's land," Quatre informed him.

*****

The hunter nodded in acknowledgement. _So, I have crossed over into the Sank Kingdom_.   
Not that he really cared. His prey didn't accept man-made borders and neither did he.  
"Is there a tavern nearby, some place where I can find food and shelter for my horse and myself?"  
The boy nodded. "There is a small inn in a village only three or four miles to the north. If you wish I can show you to the road?"  
"Thank you, that's very nice of you."  
Quatre led the way and Ysard followed him on foot. Neither of them spoke while they were walking, and the hunter took the opportunity to study the boy from behind. He was slim without being scrawny and not very tall. His clothes looked well worn and were patched in many places.  
Quatre stopped and turned as they reached the road to Richwood. "This is it, my Lord. You can't miss the village if you just follow this road."  
The hunter nodded. He pulled a silver piece from his pocket and handed it to the boy.  
"Thank you, Sir."  
As Quatre reached for the coin Ysard seized his hand.

"You have beautiful eyes. Did anybody ever tell you that?" he asked the boy.  
Quatre's eyes went wide and he tried to pull away when Ysard raised his gloved right hand and softly caressed his face.  
"Have you ever lain with a man? If not, would you like to find out what if feels like?"

"I don't think so," the boy replied firmly.

"Are you afraid of me?" Ysard asked smoothly.   
"Should I be?" Quatre responded, even as be tried to back away further.

The hunter smiled thinly. His fingers moved down to the boy's neck lingering at the small leather collar around his throat.

"So, you are a slave?"

"Yes," Quatre confirmed, as he jerked his hand away and took a step backward. "And my master the duke is very possessive when it comes to his property."

The man gave him another smile. "He doesn't have to know. You and I could make each other very happy and he would never have to find out."

"I think I'd better be on my way now."

"I think not." Ysard's hand shot forward grabbing the young slave by his arm.  
The boy glared at him. "Let go of me. I don't wish to hurt you, but I will if I have to," he warned.  
The hunter grinned in a mixture of amusement and complacency. But the smirk vanished from his face when Quatre's right arm suddenly shot toward his face, a blue flame escaping from the palm of the boy's hand when he opened it. The man cried out in surprise and pain, as he pressed his hands against his burning eyes.  
"Damn that devious little brat," he growled. 

*****

Quatre turned and started running. He knew he didn't do any permanent damage and the man was only temporarily blinded. He ran as fast as he could, trying to get as much space between himself and the hunter before the man would be able to follow him on horseback. 

Without him really realizing it his feet carried him toward the cave that was his secret sanctuary. He entered the cave, pausing for a moment to catch his breath before he closed his eyes and concentrated. Using glamour he hit the entrance to the cave, blending it with the surrounding rock. From the outside nobody should ever guess that there was anything else but a solid wall of stone. Once it was done, he dropped down on the hard floor and allowed himself to relax.

Taking long, deep breaths Quatre tried to calm himself, when he suddenly heard a noise from deep inside the cave. He could feel the hair in his neck rise when the realization hit him that he wasn't alone. Somebody…something was with him in the cave. For a moment the boy thought about turning around and running again. But his better judgement reminded him that the dark hunter was somewhere out there in the woods. Maybe whatever was inside the cave wasn't as bad as what was waiting for him on the outside.  
Slowly he got up on his feet, and started to push deeper into the cave. First he could only make out the contours of something lying on the rocky ground. A few steps further he realized it was human, and it didn't move. After another couple steps he gasped, recognizing the body to be that of a young man or boy, lying on his left side, his right shoulder soaked in blood. Quatre could see the cause of the bleeding, the back part of an arrow sticking out from beneath the boy's shoulder blade. Wondering what might have happened he proceeded to walk toward the body, when some movement to his right caught his attention. From the corner of his eyes he saw a large black cat, back arched, muscles tense, ready to jump. Quatre froze instantly. The animal didn't attack him, but instead landed on satin-soft paws about four feet in front of him, putting itself between Quatre and the boy on the floor. Ears laid back, inch long fangs barred, the panther hissed at him, warning him not to come any closer.  
_It's trying to protect him_, the blond boy realized in utter surprise. _Is it his pet?_

A soft moan from the wounded boy ripped Quatre from his thoughts_. At least he is still alive. But he needs help, or he might not live much longer._

Taking a deep breath to calm his fears, Quatre looked at the black cat. He licked his dry lips before he started to talk in a appeasing and soft voice. "I'm not going to hurt him. I just want to try to help."

Although the animal didn't move one inch it stopped hissing. Black ears moved slightly as if it was actually listening.

"I'll go over there and look at him now, alright?" Quatre's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not going to hurt him."  
He took one slow and cautious step forward, not sure if what he was doing was smart. But to his surprise the black cat actually backed off, just far enough for the boy to walk by. As Quatre crouched down next to the other boy he realized now how young he was, probably barely older than Quatre himself. The young slave looked at the wounded boy's face and almost gasped. His features were handsome. Long strains of damp brown hair covered part of his face. The boy was…in lack of a better word… beautiful. Quatre kicked himself mentally for that thought and started to check the boy's wound. He winced in compassion, knowing that that arrow had to come out and there was no easy way to do it. Once he removed the weapon he knew the wound would start bleeding again. He would need some pieces of cloth. Looking down on his own ragged outfit he decided that the boy's own clothes looked much cleaner and better suited for the purpose. He ripped off some strips of the boy's tunic, then looked up. The black cat had settled down into a almost relaxed position, but the intensity with which it watched every single move Quatre made, and the occasional flickering of its long tail showed that it was everything but relaxed.  
"I'll try not to hurt him…too much." The blond slave whispered as he began carefully to pull out the arrow. The other boy moaned but didn't wake up. Just as he had expected the wound started to bleed, heavily. Quatre's eyes widened.

_He is loosing way too much blood. I got to do something…quick._

Quatre knew that healing took a lot of energy out of him and he prayed that after all he had been through tonight, he had enough left to at least stop the bleeding. He closed his eyes, and began to move his hands over the other boy's wounded shoulder. As his lips started to form silent words in his native language, a radiant glow extended from his hands. Quatre wasn't sure how much time had passed when he started to feel darkness tickle on the edges of brain and he knew that he was going to pass out soon if he pushed himself any further. He quickly finished the healing spell and opened his eyes. He was pleased to see the bleeding had stopped. And the wound looked a lot better than it did before. He picked up the makeshift bandages and began dressing he boy's shoulder, feeling dizzy and worn out. 

_Good_, he thought once he was done. _I did all I could. Now he has to rest. And so do I_.

Quatre moved a little away, curled up into a fetal position and allowed his body to give in to his exhaustion. The fact that he was sharing the cave with a beast that could easily rip his throat out in one swift move didn't concern him too much. On the contraire, he felt almost a certain sense of safety, knowing that the black cat was keeping watch.

***

Even in the middle of the night, the royal palace was never really asleep. Guards of course were on duty at all hours of the day, but also some of the servants worked throughout the night, preparing for the day to come. However, in order for her plan to work the sorceress had put a sleeping spell over part of the castle.   
The cloaked figure of a man hurried through the castle toward the east wing, where the bedchambers of the royal family were located. With a satisfied smile he noticed that the guards were all but asleep. 

So, the spell had worked. Not that he ever had doubted it.

Unseen, the man slipped into prince Milliardo's chamber, once again wondering why Lady Catorce didn't simple order him to kill the young heir. But then, he was only her servant, who was he to think he could understand her intentions.   
The young prince was sleeping peacefully. The man threw back the hood of his cloak, revealing short-cropped dark hair and a cruel face that fit his personality well. Tonight the man was only an instrument to the sorceress, a vessel for her mind, so she could go places without her body every leaving her own palace. His eyes changed from green to red and a slight glow started to radiate from him as the sorceress took over his body.

For a moment she looked down at the sleeping prince. His face was peacefully relaxed. Long pale-blond hair spilled over the silk pillows.  
_So handsome_, she thought. He reminded her of his father when she first met him more than two decades ago. She had fallen hard for the handsome young king and tried everything to gain his attention. But he never even acknowledged her, only having eyes for his future bride. He could have had her, but he chose another. How humiliating! She shivered in anger as she shook off the memories. No time for that now. That was the past. The future was revenge.   
She performed another sleeping spell just to make sure that the prince wasn't going to wake up at the wrong moment. Then she started to prepare another, far more sinister spell.

***

Wufei woke up from deep sleep with the strange feeling that something wasn't right. For a moment he lay there just listening into the dark, but there was nothing. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. After tossing and turning for a while he sat up with a sigh.  
"Wufei, are you all right?" a sleepy voice reached him from the other room.  
Years of training as a soldier had made Treize a light sleeper.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Wufei apologizes as he stepped into his master's chamber.  
"Don't worry about it," the captain told him. "Another Nightmare?"  
"No," the young sorcerer answered. _No, that was not it. Not this time_. "I'm not sure why, but I have a really bad feeling. Something is not right, Treize."  
"Nothing is wrong, Wufei," Treize assured him. "This place is thoroughly watched. Come here." The Captain yawned, as he threw back his bed covers and gestured the boy to join him. "Lets try to go back to sleep."

Telling himself that his master was probably right, but still unable to shake the strange feeling completely, Wufei slipped off his pants and climbed next to Treize. Moments later he felt his master's strong arm around his waist and he curled closer against the warm body, forcing his mind to relax as well.

*****

Quatre woke up alone and stiff from the cold.   
_What a strange dream_, he thought.   
When he raised his right arm to wipe the sleep from his eyes something fell out of his hand and hit the floor with a jingle. Surprised the boy bent forward and discovered a small shiny object. He picked it up. It was a silver ring, engraved with he head of a lion. Suddenly Quatre realized that he had not been dreaming. The wounded boy, the black panther and even the stranger in the woods had been real. He stared at the ring quite some time and for a reason he was not sure of his heart grew a little heavy. Something told him that he would probably never see the strange boy and his cat again. 

He sighed and got up on his feet. Time for him to return to the castle, to his duties in the stable and his miserable life. It was still dark when he left the cave. The morning air was cold and crisp. He slowly climbed down from the mountain and started heading back to Oakwood castle.   
Quatre had not gotten very far when he was suddenly seized from behind. A startled sound escaped his lips, as an arm was wrapped around him and he was pressed hard against somebody.   
"Did you really think you were getting away from me?"  
The voice sent shivers down Quatre's spine.   
"Let go off me!" He struggled and kicked, trying to free his hands, but the man behind him just laughed.   
"I think not. You got me once, you won't get a second chance to use your little tricks."

*****

The large cat paced slowly at the prince's side. Trowa, still feeling the effects of the tranquilizer in his blood, buried his hand in the soft, black fur as he leaned on the panther for support. He had tried to shift back into his feline form earlier, only to discover that his power hadn't fully returned. Dawn had yet to break and the forest was dark at this time of night. Human vision was a poor substitute to a cat's keen eyesight. At one point the prince tripped over a root. The misstep sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder, causing him to moan involuntarily.  
His four-legged companion turned his head and looked up at him, concern in those slitted eyes.  
"I'm fine," Trowa assured him.   
Suddenly the young prince was overcome by a strange sensation. It was an odd feeling of distress, like somebody was silently crying out for help.

At the same time the cat raised his head in alarm and tensed. Violet eyes narrowed; lips pulled back revealing deadly fangs. A dangerous, low growl formed in the depth of his throat.  
"Did you feel it too?" the prince asked.  
The feline answered with a quiet snarl. _Stay!_

Trowa watched as the panther took off, dashing around trees and jumping over bushes until he finally disappeared out of sight   
_Be careful, Duo!_

***

Quatre was too busy struggling against the man's iron grip and the man was too busy preventing the blond from breaking loose to see the braided boy sneaking up on the hunter's black stallion. Neither of them noticed him pulling the heavy crossbow from the saddle and loading the weapon.   
"Take you hands of him!"

Ysard jerked around and froze. His eyes widened when he realized that he was starring into his own weapon.  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
"To you… **Death…** if you don't let go of that boy immediately."  
The hunter managed a thin grin. "Are you sure you know how to handle that weapon?" he asked smoothly.

"Want me to show you that I can handle it perfectly?" Duo growled; his voice leaving no question that he was serious. 

Ysard shrugged but let go of the blond's arm. "I'd prefer not." he replied calmly.

"Go," the braided boy told Quatre, without taking an eye of the hunter. "I'll make sure that he won't follow you."

"Thank you." The blond boy gave Duo a long gaze before he turned around and run off.

_You don't have to thank me. I'm just returning a favor, _Duo thought

"And what's going to happen now?" the man asked almost nonchalantly.

"Now we will wait."  
"This matter didn't even concern you. What do you care?"  
"Let's just say I don't like you very much."  
Ysard snorted. "Is that so?"

They waited for a long time, glaring daggers at each other.  
Once Duo was sure that the blond boy had gotten a good enough head start to get himself to safety he gestured toward the black horse.

"Leave now and do not forget for a moment that my finger is still on the trigger."

The black-haired man gave him a cold glare. "I'm still can't help myself but think that you are not brave enough to pull that trigger." he said while he mounted his stallion. "It takes a lot of guts to kill another human being, you know."

"Are you sure you really want to find out?" the braided boy asked with a grin.   
"I do, but not today. Something tells me that we will meet again some day." He spurred his horse and galloped off into the dark.   
"I hardly can wait," Duo yelled after him as he watched horse and rider disappear from his sight.

The sound of a twig breaking under somebody's footstep made Duo jerk around.

"Gods, don't ever sneak up on me like that when I'm holding a loaded weapon, Trowa," he chided. "Don't you think being shot once is enough for one night? What are you doing here anyway? I thought I told you to stay."

"Did he get away?" Trowa asked.

Duo, knowing the prince was referring to the blond boy, nodded. "He should be safe." And with a gaze up into the sky he added. "It's almost dawn, we should be going too. Do you think you've got enough strength to shift?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm feeling a lot better," the prince assured him.


	6. Unknown Emotion

Part 4 – Unknown Emotions

The room was silent except for their heavy breathing and the sounds of metal hitting metal when their swords met. The two knights moved with the grace and speed of skilled swordsmen. For a moment Heero thought he had actually gotten the upper hand in this battle, but one single miscalculated step cost him all. Suddenly he lost his footing, and at the same time his weapon was ripped from his hand. He froze and closed his eyes in defeat when he felt the blade of his opponent's sword touching his throat. A moment later the cold metal was pulled away.   
"You are improving, Sir Yuy." Treize said, as he sheathed his sword and extended his hand toward the fallen knight. "You almost got me this time."  
The brown-haired boy only snorted as he accepted his tutor's help and pulled himself up. He had failed. If this had been a real battle he would be dead now, and the fact that he **almost** killed his opponent would be of little comfort.   
"We will take a break for now and continue once Wufei has arrived. I asked him to join us this morning," the captain suggested.

Milliardo had been watching the fight between Treize and Heero from across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. At the captains remark he raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Join us for what?"

"Wufei has been trained as a warrior since a very young age. Back in his country he was taught a special kind of self-defense. A technique that is ancient and well known to his people and referred to as Wushu (1)," Treize explained. "I thought that the two of you would appreciate his unique style of fighting without the use of a weapon."

"I've heard that he is a wizard," Milliardo remarked. Neither he nor Heero had met the captain's slave yet. But since everybody in the castle was talking about the young boy from the Far East, for one reason or another, the prince was curious to meet him.   
"That is true," Treize confirmed.

Just then the door to the training room opened and the dark tanned, young boy walked in, accompanied by a guard. Captain Septm still didn't seem to trust Wufei, and to appease the man Treize had agreed to have a guard escort the young slave through the palace.

The captain dismissed the guard with a hand gesture then introduced Wufei to the prince and Heero. 

Wufei bowed respectfully, but he was barely listening to what his master was saying. For some reason he couldn't tear his eyes from the boy beside the crown prince. He was sure he never met the knight before, yet that face with those prussian-blue eyes and the unruly brown hair seemed so familiar to him. He was even more confused when he noticed that the young boy was eying him just as thoroughly.

"I was just telling, Prince Milliardo about your fighting style," Treize spoke. "I was thinking that a little demonstration might be fun. Your Highness, if you would do us the honor? Use your dagger and try to attack Wufei."   
 The prince frowned at that proposition. Attacking an unarmed man wasn't something he considered very honorable, but he decided to play along and take it easy on the boy.  
"Wufei, don't hurt him," the captain urged the young wizard.  
Milliardo frowned. _Shouldn't he be telling that to me? I'm the one with the weapon._

For a moment the two opponents just stood there starring at each other, then the blond prince moved swiftly. Wufei was ready for it. He blocked and countered the first few attacks with no effort at all. At one point he simply dropped to the floor, rolled out of reach and was back on his feet again faster than Milliardo could react. With one swift movement he jumped up and kicked the dagger out of the prince's hand. The next kick connected with Milliardo's chest making him almost stumble. Wufei dropped down again, caught himself on one wrist, spun around kicking the feet away under his opponent's body. Milliardo fell onto his back hard enough that the impact knocked the air out of him. By the time he could breathe again and the stars in front of his eyes disappeared, Wufei had pinned him down with his foot firmly lodged under the prince's chin.  
Heero had watched each and every move the black-haired slave had made. It was amazing how quickly and efficiently Wufei had taken down his friend. 

"Impressive," Milliardo panted, scrambling back to his feet once the young wizard had released him. "A little warning would have been nice though."  
"But that would have spoiled the whole surprise," Treize answered smugly. He chuckled in amusement when Milliardo gave him an angry glare. "Enough sparring for today," he decided. "We will continue our usual lessons tomorrow morning. Wufei, let me call a guard to take you back to the tower."

"Treize, do you mind if Heero and I accompany Wufei? Milliardo asked.   
The captain shook his head. "I don't mind at all."   
  


***

Quatre was sitting in an empty stall in the furthest end of the stable, holding in the palm of his hand the ring that was easily his most precious possession in the palm of his hand. He couldn't stop thinking about his encounter with that strange boy in the cave. He wondered who the boy was and what he was doing, if there was any chance that he would ever see him again. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't even hear footsteps coming closer. Suddenly the ring was snatched out of his hand. Quatre jumped up.

"Give it back, it's mine." Eyes narrowed, hands clinched to fists he starred at the girl before him. Dorothy just smiled. "Not until you tell me when you got it from."  
"I found it," Quatre snapped.  
The blond girl shook her head. "That's not enough. You will have to do better than that," she told him.

"Okay," the boy agreed. "I found it in the woods last night underneath some leaves when I was digging for roots. And that's all there is to it. Now can I have the ring back, please?"

She just shrugged, obviously disappointed about the story, but gave the ring back to him as she had promised.   
"You better hide it, Quatre. If somebody else sees it they might think you stole it of somebody and you will get yourself into trouble again. – Which reminds me, Uncle came home last night and he wasn't very pleased to find his personal stable boy wasn't here to tent to his horses."

Quatre's already light colored skin grew even paler, knowing that he was in for a good beating at the best.

"I told him I sent you to get some roots and herbs. That's what you were doing, wasn't it?" Dorothy added.  
The blond-haired boy sighed in relieve. "Thank you, Miss Dorothy. That was very kind of you."  
The girl snorted angrily. "Don't say that. Being kind is a weakness and it only gets in your way."

Quatre sighed again, this time it was a sad sigh. "That's where you are wrong, My Lady. There is so much hate and hurt in this world, I think it takes a very strong person to show kindness. There is nothing wrong with being kind to others."  
She laughed bitter. "Quatre, how can you be so naïve?"  
He shrugged. "Maybe I am naïve; maybe I just believe that in nature most people are good."  
She laughed again, but this time she sounded almost amused. "You know, when you talk like that you remind me of somebody."

"Who?" He wanted to know.  
"Princess Relena. She sounds just like you when she talks about how all the kingdoms could live in peace together if everybody would just try a little."  
"You really like her, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Dorothy snorted in protest. "I wouldn't go as far to say that. However I do admit I like talking to her. Those verbal battles we engage in are …shall I say rather refreshing. And the way of her thinking is sometimes rather amusing. Do you know one time she said something to the point that if she had the power she would destroy each and every weapon on this world to stop people from killing each other."

"What's wrong with that?" Quatre wanted to know.

"You fool, don't you know you can't stop people from killing by just taking away their weapons. Humans will always fight. If they have to they will kill each other with their bare hands. It's just our nature."  
With that she turned and left without another word, leaving an utterly surprised Quatre behind. The boy never knew what to make of her. Every time he thought he had Dorothy Catalonia figured out, she surprised him once again.

***

"I've heard that you do magic. What exactly does that mean?" Milliardo asked after the three teens had walked for a while silently through the halls of the castle. "I once saw a gypsy make things disappear. Is it something like that?"

Wufei almost gasped at that level of ignorance. "I work with spells, formulas and the help of elements. I don't do **tricks**." He replied. "Trying to deceive people with illusions is dishonorable and has nothing to do with real magic."

"Oh I see. So making things disappear is not real magic? Or isn't just that you don't know how to do it?" Milliardo asked with a slight grin. 

For a moment Wufei considered teaching the young prince a little lesson about the consequences of teasing a wizard, but luckily for Milliardo his self-control was greater than his wish for retaliation, and he chose just to ignore the remark.

"Wufei, I want you to teach me," Heero suddenly spoke up. It was the first time he had said anything since they had met, and it surprised the young wizard somewhat.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord?"  
"I want you to teach me the way you fight. Can you?" Heero inquired.

Wufei shrugged. "It depends, my Lord." He knew that it took a lot of self-discipline and endurance to master the art of Wushu. He had been very young when his Sifu, Master H, had started introducing him to it, since it was not only a simple art of self-defense, but also strengthened physical abilities, health and willpower. Even now he practiced whenever he could, if only as a form of exercise and to keep his body in shape. Having somebody to actually spar with would be nice. And something told him that the other boy, once he had learned the basics, was not going to be an easy opponent. That suited him just fine. Easy was only for the weak. "It takes a lot of commitment and practice. And we would have to ask my master for his approval first."

Heero nodded in acknowledgement. "Wufei, please call me Heero. I don't think we need to be excessively formal. Besides my title means little to me, as I have done nothing to deserve it."

"As you wish," the young wizard answered with a curt nod and a smile.

  
Milliardo felt a sting of jealousy at those words. Not being bound by the rules and etiquette of the royal court, made socializing a lot easier for Heero. Why couldn't it be the same for him? Milliardo was almost certain the idea of he crown prince being on a first name base with a slave would kill Sir Kenton, on the spot. He could almost hear the annoyingly nasally voice of his tutor, in his head_. Your Highness, may I remind you how inappropriate it is for the future king…_  
 So what? Damn the etiquette! Damn Kenton! I'm still my own person, not somebody's puppet on a string. _Maybe it actually will kill him on the spot and I won't have to endure that man any longer?_ He thought with an hint of dark sarcasm.  
"Heero is right. Formality is highly overrated. Wufei, please feel free to call me Milliardo."  
"Are you sure that would be appropriate, your Highness?" the black-haired boy wondered.  
"Probably not, but quite frankly I do not care." The prince shrugged.

"Milliardo, Heero!"   
The small group halted and turned at the sound of a female voice behind them.  
"Relena, what brings you here?" Milliardo asked his sister.  
"I have been looking for you and Heero," she answered with a curious gaze at Wufei.

"Princess this is Wufei, Sir Treize's slave," her brother told her. "Wufei, meet my lovely sister Princess Relena."  
"The wizard?" Relena asked. She too had heard people talk. Everybody was talking about the fact that there was a new wizard in the palace, and everybody was speculating what that meant. It had been so long since there had been a court magician.   
"Yes, that's the one. Or so they say." Milliardo confirmed with a smirk. "He had yet to show us any of his magic tricks," he added, emphasizing the last word.

  
_Keep it up and you will wake up as a fuzzy, little, rodent some day. Let's see if you will think that is funny,_ Wufei thought. He knew of course that the prince wasn't trying to be hurtful. Milliardo was just having some fun, but he didn't like the fact that it had to be fun at his expense.   
Moments later they arrived at the South Tower, which people once again started to refer to as the Wizard's Tower. At the end of the winding stairway, the heavy wooden door was closed. Wufei raised his hand and at his swift gesture the door flew open. Another hand gesture and the window blinds opened. A flick of his fingers and at once a dozen candles lit up the room.  
 The young wizard was showing off for his guests, and it had the desired effect. At the sound of multiple gasps behind his back he grinned almost smugly. 

Amazed already? I wonder what you would think I showed you what I'm really capable off.

***

"Why did you have to tease him, Milliardo?" Heero asked once they had left the tower.

The prince gave him the ghost of a grin. "Because, teasing somebody like you is no fun. It didn't seem to bother him, so what do you care anyway?"  
Heero snorted. "Sometimes you can be a real arse, Milliardo, you know that?"

"Then why do you keep following me around like a little lost puppy?"  
"More like a watchdog trying to keep you out of trouble," the dark-haired boy retorted. 

"Right," Milliardo huffed. "Now I'm the one who keeps getting us into trouble?"

 "Milliardo, Heero, that's quite enough." Relena scolded them. "I suggest you find something to occupy yourselves with before you start jumping on each other's throats. What is wrong with the two of you?"

Heero and Milliardo exchanged a long look and shrugged. They didn't really see anything wrong with their little verbal confrontation. It wasn't like they had never argued in the past. 

Relena shook her head. "I don't think I want to be here when this turns into a fistfight." She was about to walk away, but turned once more to the brown-haired boy. "I'll see you later, Heero?"  
He nodded once in confirmation. Milliardo raised one eyebrow in silent question, as his sister disappeared down the hallway.

His friend shrugged. "Relena is going through one of her artistic phases again. I was foolish enough to let her talk me into posing for one of her paintings."  
"Clothed or in the nude?" 

Heero snorted. "I'll pretend I did not hear that remark, your Highness." With that he turned and walked away quickly, leaving the blond prince behind.

Milliardo smirked. _I made Heero blush. Now that's something one doesn't see every day._  
For a moment he considered going to his chambers, but then without even really thinking he walked outside and into the rose garden. For as long as he could remember he came here when he wanted to be alone. In fact it was the only place in the palace where one **could **be truly alone. Not a single guard was stationed here. There were just flowers, birds and total privacy. His mother had created the garden, or so his father had told him. Milliardo had been very young when the queen had died and mostly knew her from pictures or stories his father had told him. But when he was sitting here in the inner most sanctuary of the Royal Palace he remembered little bits and pieces, like the smell of her perfume or the sound of her voice when she sang him to sleep.  
Milliardo rubbed his temples, as he felt the slight pain of another approaching headache. He kept getting them since a few days now and he really didn't like them. He had even considered calling for the healer, but then convinced himself that it was probably just the effects of not sleeping very well and working too hard.

_For god sake, I have been running myself rugged, no wonder I'm making myself sick. The least one would expect is for father to show a little appreciation or acknowledgement of the fact that I have been trying my best. But no, no matter what I do it's never good enough for him. I can never meet his expectations._ _– Wait, where did that just come from? Is that really how I feel?_  For a moment Milliardo felt somewhat guilty about his thoughts. But then another wave of pain and bitterness washed over him. _What am I feeling guilty for? I'm the one being treated like dirt here. I bet father doesn't even care anyway. I'm no more than a person trained to replace him some day. Like the chef in the kitchen trains the replacement cook. I'm sure he never really wanted a son, just an heir."_

***

_Yes, my little prince, give in to your anger. It will make you feel better, t_he sorceress thought with a satisfied smile on her lips. She could feel that her spell was working. Soon his anger was going to turn into hate and he would become a perfect instrument of her plans. And after that he would die!   
  


***  
  


The following days found Heero quite busy. When he wasn't posing for Relena's portrait, he was practicing with Wufei.   
Heero wasn't sure why he felt a strange kind of connection to the exotic looking boy. It wasn't the same connection that he felt to Milliardo. It was something completely different. It seemed that they knew each other for ages. When Captain Treize had introduced them when they had first met, a strange sensation of déjà vu, had overcome him, a feeling like the same had happened before. 

Heero had learned from Treize that Wufei had been taking away from his home by force when he was rather young, and he could relate to that. He knew only to well what it meant to suddenly lose your home, your family; to have your life turned upside down and have no control over anything.

If he had known how, he would have told the other boy that they had a lot in common. But talking about his feelings was something Heero knew little about. Fighting on the other hand, that was something he understood. And apparently so did Wufei. The young wizard knew a lot more about fighting than he had led on that first day.  
It was still early in the morning, but Heero was already in the training room. He was practicing the moves that Wufei had shown him the other day, determinate to give the other boy a good fight next time they sparred.  
"Heero."  
He turned to see King Stephán standing in the door, and he wondered how long the monarch had been watching him.

"Your Highness?" he asked.

"Relena came to see me last night. She told me that she is concerned about Milliardo." The king stepped into the room. "Heero, do you think I'm being too harsh on him?"

The boy with the unruly hair cringed inwardly at the simple question. "Sire, it is not my place to question you," he replied evasively.

"Never mind that for the moment," Stephán cut him off. "Just tell me what you think. You worry about him too, don't you?" The king's crystal blue eyes met those of Heero and he could read concern in them. 

The boy nodded once. "He is becoming agitated and angry. He tries to hide it, but I know him well enough to see through his mask. – May I speak freely, Sire?"

"By all means, Heero. You should never feel like you couldn't speak your mind in front of me, boy."  
"Thank you, your Highness. I think Milliardo is just exhausted. Weapons' training and tutoring on Royal Court etiquette is bad enough every day, even without having to attend court gatherings. He is trying hard to be perfect and not to disappoint you again." Heero knew only too well how hard it was to try to be perfect all the time.

The king sighed. He turned and for a long moment he starred thoughtfully at one of the family crests on the wall.  
_I'm turning into my own father. I'm putting the same pressure on Milliardo that my father put on me even so I swore I never would treat my children that way._

"Don't be too hard on yourself either, Sire." Heero said suddenly. "Sir Odin was tough on me too when I lived with him, but I knew he never did it to be cruel or hurtful. He just did the best he could to prepare me for my place in live. I'm sure Milliardo sees it the same way. When he becomes king some day he will be thankful for everything you taught him."

The king smiled mildly. "I believe you are right, Heero. Still, I think I should ease a little up on him. Would you accompany Relena and me to the St Martin orphanage tomorrow?"

The Peacecraft family had been supporting the orphanage, run by the nuns of  the St Martin church, since generations. Twice every year, once during the summer season and once during the winter, the royal family visited the church, checking up on it and delivering some new clothes and toys for the children. The orphanage had its own choir and Sister Helen, the head nun, put up a great musical performance for their benefactors every time he visited.  
"I would be honored." Heero replied.

"Then it's settled." King Stephán nodded in satisfaction. "You'll take Milliardo's place tomorrow. and that will give him some time to do as he wishes."

***

At the knock at the door Trowa looked up from the book he was reading.

"Who is it?" he asked.   
"Your servant, your squire, your healer, your jester, your faithful companion… Whatever you want me too be, your Highness," sounded a familiar voice from the other side of the door. Trowa couldn't help but smile at his friend's cheerfulness.

"Please, come in Duo."

The boy with the chestnut hair walked in, carrying a small basket in one hand. "I need to re-dress your shoulder," he explained.

Trowa nodded. He and Duo had returned to Whitewater Castle, a small manor near the border to the Sanc Kingdom mainly used by Regent King Dekim during hunting season, after their nightly adventure. In order to avoid questions from his uncle Trowa had barely left his room since.  
"Arms up," Duo commanded, after he had put the basket on the side-table next to Trowa's chair. 

"You know, I'm not that ill. I can undress myself," the green eyed boy complained, as Duo started to untie the laces that held his tunic closed. 

But his braided friend didn't want to hear it. "I'm sure you do. Only the last time you tried it the wound started bleeding again, remember? You can either let me take care of you or I'll go and get the healer, your choice."  
Trowa sighed in resignation. "No, I don't want the healer."  
Once the prince's well muscled torso was free of garments, Duo took a look at the bandages. He noted in satisfaction that, unlike the other day, no blood had soaked through them. He undressed the shoulder and was glad to see the wound itself looked well too. When he started to put on some of the salve he had brought, Trowa flinched. Duo cringed in sympathy. To distract his friend from the pain the braided boy started to tell him about an incident that he had witnessed the other night.

"…and then, with the help of a few servants Sir Grundar finally gets up on his steed. As drunk as he is he doesn't notice that somebody had undone the saddle belt," he recalled, but neglected to mention who that **somebody** was. "He spurs his horse and at the next moment, rider and saddle fly through the air and Sir Gundar lands headfirst in a pile of horse dung. The servants who helped him up say he smelled like a whole family of skunks." Duo laughed. "You should have seen it Trowa, it was so funny."

"Uh-huh..." Trowa replied. The braided boy frowned. This was about the fourth time he had gotten that same remark out of his friend.   
"Do you think its going to rain grilled hens today?"

"Uh-huh..."   
"Trowa, you have not listened to a word I said, have you?" Duo pouted. He knew that, because he talked a lot, most people hardly listened to him. Trowa was usually the exception. The young prince had never been a big talker, yet a perfect listener.

"Uh?…I'm sorry Duo. What did you say?" Trowa asked, finally snapping out of his thoughts.

"Never mind. What have you been thinking of?" Duo wanted to know, as he finished bandaging Trowa's wound and helped him back into his clothes.

The prince sighed. "That boy, I just can't get him out of my mind. There is something about him; I just don't know what it is."

"Yes," Duo confirmed grimly. "There is certainly something about him. He was using magic. Maybe he put some kind of spell on you."

"Duo!" Trowa admonished. "Not everybody who is able use magic is necessarily a wicked person. I thought you would be more open-minded about that. Or do you think that you or I are evil?"

The braided boy cringed a little under his friend's stern look. "That's different."  
"No it's not. Him having the gift of being able to heal with the touch of his hands is not different than you and I being able to shift into big cats. He saved my live, Duo. He didn't have to do that. He didn't even know me." After a short pause Trowa added. "I want to see him again."

"Oh no, you're not." Duo shook his head resolutely.

"I wonder if he visits that cave often?"

"In case you have not noticed, that cave is located south of the border."  
"Perhaps I could meet him there."

"Trowa! You are you listening to me?" Duo yelled at his friend. "We crossed over into the San Kingdom that night and were lucky a patrol didn't catch us. If you go there again you might as well put a sign around you neck that says: Triton IV, heir to the Barton Kingdom, come and take me prisoner. – There are easier ways to commit suicide, you know. I won't let you put yourself in danger. And I'll tie you to your bed until we go back to the Royal Palace, if I have to." The angry sparkle in those violet eyes left no doubt that Duo was dead serious.

***

More often than not lately, Milliardo found himself spending the evening in seclusion in the rose garden. His headaches still bothered him, sometimes to the point that he couldn't think clearly. Sitting out here in the cool evening breeze helped somewhat. 

When he heard footsteps behind him he sighed inwardly but didn't turn. Maybe whoever it was would just go away and leave him alone. No such luck!

"Forgive me, your Highness, I really don't want to disturb you?"  
_Then why don't you just leave?_ Milliardo thought. Nevertheless he put on a polite smile as he and rose from the bench he was sitting on and turned around.

"Don't worry about it. How can I help you?" he asked. 

The dark-haired man who was standing near the gate to the garden was wearing a guard uniform. He looked somewhat familiar. Perhaps he had been a member of his personal guard before Treize rebuilt it. Milliardo couldn't remember his name though.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, your Highness. This is quite awkward," the soldier stammered. "But I think that you need to know."

"Know what?"  
"Your, Highness when I became one of your guards I took an oath of loyalty that I'm taking very serious. I'm sure there are other people in this palace who feel the same way..."  
Milliardo's eyes narrowed. The man spoke in riddles and he was not in the mood to solve riddles right now.  
"What's your name?" he asked.  
"Mueller, Sir."

"Mueller, why don't you just stop beating around the bush? What are you trying to say? You have my permission to speak freely, so get to the point."  
"Thank you, your Highness. As I said, I'm not quite sure how to…"

"To the point," the prince snarled.

"Yes, Sir," Mueller nodded. "Word has it, that your father is planning to marry Lord Yuy to Princess Relena and make him the future king instead of you."  
Yes, that was straight to the point, Milliardo had to admit.   
"That's insane. Why would my father do something like that?"   
"I'm not sure, your Highness. I just thought you should know. And I don't think it is fair toward you. No matter what, be assured that you will always have my loyalty."

Milliardo nodded in acknowledgement and appreciation of the fact. "Thank you, Mueller. I'll keep that in mind. You may go now."

The prince didn't see the evil smile playing around Mueller's lips as he walked away. He did his job well. His mistress would be pleased with him.  
Milliardo's mind was in turmoil. For the most part he refused to believe what he had just heard, but there was that little nagging voice in the back of his mind that kept getting louder. 

_Father wouldn't do that to me_. _Unless of course he realizes that I'll never be able to live up to his expectations. Of course, Heero would be the rational choice. He has always been the perfect son that I never was.  
_No, the idea was absurd. He couldn't see Heero get along with something like that. behind his back, even if it was his father's idea. But then again, his friend had been spending more time with Relena lately than with him. And it wasn't really like Heero, or anybody else for that matter, could go anything against the king's orders. And then of course, becoming king might be hard to resist to somebody who had been born a commoner?  
Milliardo shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his mind once more_. Heero is my friend, he wouldn't do something like that to me. He just wouldn't …would he?  
  
_

***  
  


When Milliardo woke up in the morning he had almost forgotten with conversation with Mueller the evening before…Almost!

He dressed and went to meet with Heero and Treize for their morning training. As he walked down the corridor to the practice room his gazed through the large windows into the courtyard. He noticed a rather large number of soldiers and guards leaving the palace, and frowned in surprise. Such a big escort was usually only used to protect the King himself. And sure enough, as he looked closer Milliardo could make out his father on his white stallion in the midst of his personal guards.

_I wonder where he is going? I don't remember him mentioning anything._

When Milliardo entered the practice room Captain Treize was already waiting.  
"Good morning, your Highness. Shall we get started?" he asked.  
"Aren't we going to wait for Heero?"

"Sir Yuy won't be practicing with us this morning," Treize told him. "He is accompanying your father and Princess Relena to St. Martin church." 

"He is?" Milliardo asked surprised.  
"Nobody told you about it?"  
"I'm sure they did. I probably just forgot about it. In that case, Treize, if you don't mind can we skip lessons this morning? I don't really feel up to it today."  
Treize nodded. "Of course, your Highness. Are you alright? Perhaps you should send for the healer if you are not feeling well."

Milliardo shook his head, the polite smile never leaving his face. He was surprised how easy it had become to keep up that mask. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. I'm just a little under the weather I think. I'll probably go back to bed. I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow. I'll see you then." With a curt nod he turned and left the room.

The prince's face was a mask of perfect calm as he walked back to his chambers. None of the guards he encountered on the way there would have guessed that he was fuming with rage. The door closed behind him and moments later there was a loud crash, as a chair was thrown against the wall, followed by another one.

I wonder how long it will take till… 

Knock… knock…

"I'm fine, go away!"

"Are you sure, your Highness? We heard some noises…"  
"I said I'm fine," Milliardo, unable to keep up the façade any longer, snarled angrily. "What part of that didn't you understand? Now leave me alone."

"As you wish, your Highness," the guard answered.

"Let me know when my father gets back."

"Yes, your Highness."

***

An almost timid knocking at the door woke Milliardo, and the prince realized that he had fallen asleep in the chair by the fireplace.  
"What is it?" he asked in a still sleepy voice.

"Your Highness wanted to be informed when his Majesty the King returned."  
"Thank you."  
The prince rose. He felt stiff from sleeping in a rather uncomfortable position, which didn't help to improve his mood. As he walked out of his chambers his eyes fell upon the pieces of two broken chairs, reminiscences of his earlier fit of rage.

"Have somebody clean up in there," he told the nearest guard before he went off, looking for his father. He didn't have to search very long. The king was just walking into the main hall, Captain Septm by his side.

"Father?!"

King Stephán stopped his conversation with the captain of the guards and gave his son a tired look. "Not now, Milliardo."

"Father, I really need to talk to you," the prince urged.

"I said not now. Can't you see that I don't have time for you right now?" The moment those words were out the king realized they had sounded harsher than he had meant them to be.  
"I'm sorry for bothering you," Milliardo snapped as he turned on his heels. "I'm sure if Heero would walk in here right now and wanted to speak you, you would make time for him."  
_What in god's name was that about?_ the king thought, as he watched his son storm out of the hall. For a moment he contemplated following him and demanding an explanation, but then he remembered Captain Septm still standing next to him.

Milliardo let his feet carry him without even thinking, but wasn't surprised when he ended up once again in the rose garden.

I hate him! I hate him! I wish he had never set foot in this castle!

***

Yvonne Catorce could not have been more pleased with the way things developed. Her sinister plan had started to take shape. She had three allies working on her side. Some people might underestimate them, but hate, anger and jealousy were most powerful forces.

That's right, Milliardo! Just give in to it. You have the right to be angry. Who do they think they are to treat you like this? You deserve better than that. And what about that back-stabbing coward pretending to be your friend, will you let him take away what rightfully is yours? Don't let him get away with it. Stop him before it is too late.  
  


***

Heero had been looking for the Milliardo all over the palace. He had not seen his friend all day. After being most of the day at St. Martin's church together with the king and Relena, he had been looking forward to spending the evening with the prince. But Milliardo didn't even show up for supper. After checking the prince's chambers and pretty much every other place he could think of, Heero finally headed for the rose garden. He kicked himself mentally for not thinking of that earlier. And sure enough, he found the blond prince sitting on one of the stone benches that were arranged throughout the garden.

 "What are you up to, Milliardo?" he asked innocently, as he walked closer.

The older teen turned toward him with a sarcastic smile. "Strangely enough, I was wondering the same thing about you." Then the smile fell out of his face and his ice blue eyes darkened. "What are you up to Heero Yuy?"

"I beg your pardon?" the brown-haired boy asked bewildered.

"When exactly did you decide that being the king's ward and my friend wasn't enough anymore?"  
"What?"   
"Or was all of this my father's idea?"

Heero looked at the young prince and frowned. He had never seen his friend like this. "Are you drunk, Milliardo?"

"No, unfortunately I'm painfully sober. Yes, I guess finding out that your best friend betrays you behind your back can be a very sobering experience." Milliardo got up from the bench he had been sitting on and walked toward the younger boy.

Heero was more confused than ever, and he started to get a little agitated. Milliardo's accusations, no matter how unfounded they were, stung. "What in gods name are you talking about?"

"Do not pretend you don't know."

"Just for the sake of it, let's assume I don't and you tell me."

"Fine," Milliardo snapped, standing almost toe to toe with his friend. "Explain me for example why you have been spending so much time with Relena and my father lately."  
"Maybe because spending time with you is becoming more and more difficult," Heero snapped back. 

"Is that so?" the prince asked dangerously soft. "Well, pardon me for not being perfect. I guess that's just it, isn't it? I have never been the perfect son, the perfect little soldier that says "yes" and "amen" to everything. No wonder father wants to replace me with somebody who fits that description better. There is just one problem I have not been able to figure out in his little plan. If he marries Relena off to you and wants you to become the heir to the throne, where does this leave his little misfit son in the story? Can you tell me?"  
Heero shook his head in utter disbelieve. "I think you have lost your mind, Milliardo. Either that, or you really **are** drunk." He turned, ready to leave, but was stopped when the older teen grabbed him by the arm. 

"Oh no, Heero. I'm not finished. You are not walking away from this."  
"Let go of me!" Heero glared at him. He was ready to beat some sense into his friend if he had to, but Milliardo was apparently prepared to go even further. Letting go of the other boy's arm he took one step back, pulling his sword. "Defend yourself!"

Heero's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to duel you."

"Don't think I'm not going to kill you just because you are too cowardly to pick up your weapon." Milliardo growled.  
_This isn't really happening. _"Milliardo, you can't be serious."

"But I am." A vicious sparkle in the ice blue eyes was all the warning Heero got before the blond teen attacked.

He jumped back, reaching for his own sword, parrying the hit. Milliardo held nothing back, but his friend only deflected blow after blow, never attacking.

"This is not right." Heero panted. "Your accusations are wrong… And we shouldn't be fighting."

"I don't …believe you." Milliardo retorted.

Heero lowered his weapon and shook his head. "I'm not going to fight you, Milliardo. This is insane. I'm not going to do something I'll most certainly regret later on."

"Coward," Milliardo hissed. "But as I told you before, it makes no difference to me if you defend yourself or not." As his right hand moved quickly, down and forward, his weapon plunged into the younger boy's abdomen.

Heero's eyes went wide in pain and disbelieve. When the sword was pulled back he dropped to his knees. His hand lost hold of his own weapon. Blood started to soak through his tunic and vest. He opened his mouth as blood started to fill his lounges and breathing became difficult, and his body fell forward.

***

As usual Treize had picked up Wufei at the south tower once he was off duty. The captain was thrilled that the boy had found something to do that he seemed to be enjoying. He had never seen Wufei so enthusiastic. If it wasn't for him the boy would sit over his books and studies till late into the night. 

As the two of them walked together back to their quarters the young wizard suddenly trembled. Treize got a hold of him, preventing him from collapsing.

_I told him to take it easy. He is working too much and not getting enough sleep_, the captain thought worriedly, but aloud he asked: "Are you alright, Wufei?"  
The boy nodded, as he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. "I'm fine. But something just happened. Something terrible, Treize! I could feel it."   
"What do you mean?" The captain frowned. "What happened?"  
"I'm not sure. But we have to do something; quickly."  
  


***

It was already late, but Quatre and two other stable boys were still unloading a haul of straw, trying to get a head start on it in the morning. The last thing he remembered was moving one of the large bales into the barn, then everything went black. When he came back to he was laying in the stable on some hay, two worried faces hovering over him.

"What…what happened?" he asked, carefully touching his aching head.

"You suddenly passed out. Are you alright?"

Quatre just nodded, as he started to recall what he had felt just before he lost consciousness. The fear… the confusion… the pain…Oh Allah, so much pain. He never had felt anything like it before and he never wanted to feel it again.

***

Duo woke up with a startled cry, his heart beating franticly in his chest. He jumped out of bed and run out of his room, dressed only in his nightclothes. Moments later he knocked on a door down the hall. A wave of relieve washed over him when Trowa opened that door from the other side, apparently unharmed and well.

"I just woke up and had that awful feeling that something had happened, even though I don't know what," the braided boy stammered.

Trowa nodded understandingly. He had felt it too. 

"What was it?"

"I don't know." The green eyed boy answered, voice barley above a whisper. "You want to come in?"

Duo nodded. The last thing he wanted right now was to spend the rest of the night alone in his chambers.


	7. What doesn't Kill us Makes us Stronger

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 5 – What doesn't kill us makes us stronger

Treize wasn't sure how Wufei knew that something had happened and where, but something told him that this wasn't the time to asked questions. He let the young wizard lead the way, somewhat surprised when he realized where they were heading.  
When they entered the rose garden Treize saw Milliardo towering, sword in his hand, over a motionless figure on the ground, and the first thing that jumped into his mind was that somebody had attempted to assassinate the crown prince. But then he recognized the figure and his eyes widened.  
"Your Highness, what happened?" he asked. As he moved toward the prince, Wufei crouched down next to Heero, turning the lifeless body on its back.

"I'm not sure, really." Milliardo shook his head. He looked at Treize and slowly released the grip on his sword. The weapon dropped to the ground. "We were just arguing and suddenly he attacked me. I didn't have any choice but to fight back."  
As the first guards entered the garden confusion started to spread. Treize yelled out for somebody to get the healer and then directed his attention back to Milliardo. "Are you hurt in any way?"  
"No, I'm fine. I just want to go to my quarters now." Milliardo answered.

Treize nodded. He gave the prince a concerned look. When he didn't find the least bit of concern or guilt in those ice blue eyes the captain concluded that Milliardo had to be in shock. Striking down another human being, even in self-defense, could be hard to handle. But it had to be a hundred times worse when that person was your best friend.  
"Wufei, stay here and see if the healer needs your help," Treize ordered, then gestured two guards to follow as he accompanied the prince back to his quarters.

Just outside the prince's chambers the small group met up with the king. Somebody has already informed him about what had occurred.  
"Milliardo are you aright?" Stephán asked concerned.  
"I'm fine, father. I suppose Heero was not as good of a fighter as everybody thought. – If you don't mind I would like to be alone now." With a curt nod the prince entered his room.  
The king exchanged a worried look with Treize. The captain waited until the door had closed before he spoke.

"I don't think he fully realizes yet what has happened, Your Majesty. Perhaps he should not be alone when it sinks in."

King Stephán nodded in agreement. "I'll have the healer check on him a little later. And I want guards around him at all hours. I trust you will take care of that, Captain."  
"Yes, your Highness, as you wish."

"What about Heero? How bad is it?"  
Treize lowered his gaze, as he slowly shook his head, unable to meet the monarch's eyes. He had seen the boy, had see the wound and the blood, and in his experience nobody could survive the loss of such an amount of blood. "I'm sorry, your Highness, but I'm afraid he is beyond help. The healer and Wufei are with him though."

***

It was long after midnight when Treize finally headed to his own quarters. He had assigned several guards to watch Prince Milliardo around the clock, and had made sure that the king's approved of them. He had also tried to talk to Milliardo one more time, but the prince didn't want to see anybody. 

Now the captain was dead tired and hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep before dawn. When he entered his main chamber he found the candles in the room lit and heard somebody rummaging in the other room.

"Wufei?"  
"Yes," Wufei answered.

Treize walked over to the draped doorway that separated the two rooms. As he pushed away the heavy curtain he found the boy stripping out of his bloodied clothes.   
"Do you want to talk?" the ginger-blond captain asked.  
The young wizard gave him a short gaze then shook his head. "Unless I'm still needed I'd rather just go to sleep." He sounded exhausted to the bone.  
Treize nodded understandingly. "Right, I'd better get some sleep as well."

***

Milliardo woke up, relieved to see the first rays of the morning sun creeping through the window coverings. He had slept poorly, unable to shake those reoccurring images in his head. Visions of Heero's face; that expression of total disbelief in his blue eyes when the blade hit him, the blood…

Maybe there was some kind of guilt and remorse deep within him, but as soon as he opened his eyes it was gone, replaced by another nagging headache and that voice deep within him.

_What am I feeling guilty about? I only did what I had to do. It's not like I killed him in cold blood. He had the chance to defend himself. It isn't my fault he was foolish enough not to take it. – But of course father won't see it that way. He will blame me like usually._   
Milliardo got out of bed and dressed. He felt no desire to see or talk to anybody right now. He walked out onto the balcony from where he could look down onto the court yard. The crisp morning air felt good, but it did little to clear his mind. When he stepped back into the room somebody was sitting in the chair next to the fireplace. The prince's eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Wufei?"  
"You could begin by telling me the truth," the young wizard answered calmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
"The Truth?" Milliardo echoed.

"…about what happened last night. You said that Heero attacked you, suddenly and unexpectedly, yet you do not have as much as a single scratch on you, your Highness. Heero was an excellent fighter. I doubt you would have survived his attack unharmed."

Milliardo snorted in sarcasm. "Perhaps everybody just overestimated Heero's abilities." Suddenly he remembered that there were guards right outside his door and he frowned. "How did you get in here anyway?"

Wufei didn't even blink. "I'm a wizard, remember. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what I'm capable of."  
"Non of this concerns you, so why do you even care?" Milliardo glanced over to the table where his belt and sword lay; making sure that he could reach it with two quick steps.

Following the prince's eyes Wufei almost smirked. As he raised his hand slowly, sword and belt rose from the table and hovered in thin air for a moment. Then the weapon slipped out of its sheath and the belt dropped to the floor.

Milliardo swallowed hard as he watched his sword move toward Wufei. Without even touching it the young wizard snapped the weapon in half like a twig.

"There is no reason to worry. I have no intention of harming you," he announced, as he let the now useless metal drop to the floor.  
"Why would I worry?" Milliardo snorted again. "I know that you can't harm me with your magic. Treize had you put a spell on yourself that won't allow you to use magic against him or anybody in the royal family."

"True," the dark tanned boy confirmed, crossing his arms once again. "But then again, **I** was the one who created that spell. But as I said, I did not come here to harm you. I only want you to answer some questions. Why did you want to kill Heero? I thought the two of you were friends?"

"Friends don't do to friends what he did to me." Milliardo spit angrily. "He and my father were plotting on taking the right to the throne away from me. I didn't have much of a choice but to stop them."  
"Them?" Wufei asked. "Does that mean that you are not done yet? You are planning of getting rid of your father as well?"  
Milliardo smiled dangerously soft. "You know, for a slave you are quite smart, Wufei. But let me tell you, there is noting you can do to stop me."  
"I could go and tell the king what you just told me."  
The prince laughed. "I think I gave you too much credit. You are not really as smart as I thought. Go ahead; tell my father whatever you want. We will see if he is going to believe the word of a slave over his own son." Milliardo turned toward the door. "Forgive me for being rude, but this conversation is over. Guards!"  
  


***

It was nearly noon when Treize decided to check on his slave. Wufei had left their quarters early in the morning, even before the captain was awake. Treize was surprised when he didn't find the young wizard in his tower, where he normally spent most of the day. But then, nothing that happened since yesterday fit the description of "normal".  
Treize stopped a nearby guard to ask the man if he had seen Wufei.

"No Captain Treize, I have not seen him. But I've heard that Captain Septm had him taken to the dungeon a while ago."

"What?" Treize's jaw almost dropped. He stormed off, covering the distance between the South Tower and the Dungeon in record time.   
"Captain Septm had my slave brought down here?" he asked the warden on duty. "Where is he?"  
"Yes, Sir. He is in on of the cells in the back," the man confirmed "But I'm not allowed to let anybody…"

Ignoring him, Treize walked past by the man and headed for the back of the dungeon where a number of small cells for prisoners in solitary confinement were located. He could hear the warden follow him. Most of the cell doors stood open, only one was locked. The captain held his step in front of it. "Open the door." 

"Sir, I'm not allowed to…"

"Open that door, now," Treize repeated. He gave the warden a glare that promised a slow and painful death in case he was ignored. The man cringed and pulled out a large ring of keys. His hands were shaking so badly that he dropped the keys twice before he was finally able to open the lock.   
Wufei was lying on a makeshift bed of straw. When the heavy wooden door was opened he raised his head and pushed himself up on his elbows.

Treize's face darkened when he saw that the boy was wearing shackles. The chain leading from the manacles to a ring embedded into the wall was just long enough to allow him to lie down. But the captain was even more disturbed about a second pair of bracelets around Wufei's wrists. He had seen those devises before and knew were designed to stop the young wizard from using his magic power.   
_I promised him he would never have to wear anything like this again_. Treize thought half angry, half saddened.

Noticing his master's look at his wrists, Wufei shook his head. "It's alright," he spoke. "It's not really that bad."  
"No, it is not alright," Treize protested. He realized that the boy was only trying to pacify him. Wufei was a true wizard. He lived and breathed magic, and being depriving of it had to be torture. "That rotten son of a bitch had no right to do this to you."

Wufei blinked and his jaw nearly dropped, as his master blasted out another string of foul language. The boy had never imagined that words like this even existed in Treize's vocabulary.   
"Take off his chains," the captain ordered the warden.

"I can't."   
"I said take off his chains." he repeated dangerously low. He was in no mood to argue right now.  
"I apologize, Sir, but I really can't." the man stammered. "I don't have the keys."

"Then, who has them?"  
"Captain Septm, my Lord."

"Wufei, just hang on a little longer I'll be back soon." With that promise Treize left the cell. As he reached the warden's room he found Lieutenant Otto waiting for him.  
"I have been looking for you. I suppose I should have guessed I would find you down here."

"Is something wrong?" Treize frowned.

His friend grimaced and took a deep breath before answering. "I have orders to take you to his Highness; if necessary by force."   
"What are you going to do, slap chains on me?" Treize asked lightheartedly.

Otto grimaced again then nodded once.

The captain just stared at him in disbelieve. "You can't be serious."

"Please Treize," the lieutenant pleaded. "Don't make this any more difficult for me than it already is."

Treize sighed. "Do what you got to do. I was hoping to speak to the king anyway."  
  


***  
  


"Why did you brainless fool not tell me that there is a wizard in the royal palace?" the dark-haired woman yelled, her red eyes sparkling with anger.

Mueller cringed and tried hard not to show his fear as he stammered. "But, Mistress…I've heard that he is only a boy… I thought…"

"You thought? You aren't supposed to think. You are supposed to follow my orders. If he is only a boy we should be even more concerned. From what I'm feeling I can tell that he is quite powerful now. I do not want to have to face him when he is older."  
"I understand, Mistress. Please forgive my foolishness."

"Next time leave the thinking to those who have the brains for it," she snarled.

"Yes, Mistress." Mueller bowed even deeper, and sighed in relieve about the fact that there was going to be a next time. The Sorceress had killed people for lesser mistakes.  
"You will kill that wizard before he becomes a greater danger to our plans." She ordered.  
Mueller's eye's widened. "But I can do nothing against magic power."

She snorted. "Don't you think I'm aware of that, you fool? Right now he is in the dungeon and unable to use his power. Get rid of him while he is helpless."  
"Yes, Mistress." The man bowed again and when he looked back up the image of the sorceress was gone.  
  


***  
  


Treize paced restlessly forth and back in his room. After his meeting with the King and Septm, he had been ordered to surrender his arms and had been confined to his quarters. Two guards stood outside his door and two more guards were with him in the room to make sure that he didn't attempt to break his confinement.

The captain was still bewildered. He had been told that Wufei had entered the crown prince's quarters and threatened him. Treize had a hard time believing that, because it didn't seem to make sense.  Wufei had no reason to do anything like that. He had nothing to gain from it, only to loose. Sure Wufei had been spending a lot of time with Heero and the two could be almost considered friends. But even if Wufei blamed Milliardo for Heero's death he had more self-control and brain than to give in to his anger.

Septm and the king, who didn't know Wufei as well as Treize did, saw things of course very differently.

:::Begin of Flashback:::

Captain Sept glared at the ginger-blond knight as he was let into the room by two guards. Treize tried hard to keep his expression blank. Being chained up and treated like a common criminal hurt. And that anybody would question his loyalty and devotion toward this king was even worse.

"Your Highness, I told from the beginning that that slave boy should have never been allowed to set foot into the palace." Septm spoke.

Treize snorted.

"Oh please, Captain. Don't you mean **I **should have never been allowed to set foot into the Palace again? 

You had a problem with me from the moment I arrived, although I have no idea why.  I have not shown you anything but the utter most respect. And you don't even have enough honor to solve your issues with me like a man. Instead you have to take you anger out on the boy who has nothing to do with it."  
"That's not true." Septm snapped.  
"But let me warn you, Septm. If you harm Wufei in any way, I'll kill you and if it is the last thing I ever do."  
He could hear the guards behind him stir, and he almost grinned.  
_For god sakes, my hands are shackled together behind my back. What do they think I'll do? Bite him?_

"Enough!" the king cut them off. "Sir Treize, with all do respect, you are barking up the wrong tree. Captain Septm had nothing to do with Wufei's arrest. I personally ordered the boy to be taken to the dungeon. I'm giving **you** the benefit of the doubt only because your family has been serving this kingdom for a long time. But make no mistake. If I get any resistance from you, you **will **join your slave in jail. Did I make myself clear?"  
"Crystal clear, your Highness." Treize confirmed grimly.  
  


:::End of Flashback:::

Well, perhaps threatening Septm had not been such a good idea in his position. Treize sighed. He hated the feeling of not being in control. He was locked into his room without knowing what was going on.

It could be worst, he tried to tell himself. At least they had removed his shackles, served him a decent meal for supper, and he was allowed to sleep in his own bed. Wufei wasn't that lucky.

_I'm sorry, little dragon. I wish I could do something for you. I would change places with you in a heartbeat if it was possible._

Treize stopped and turned at the sound of the door being opened behind him. The soldier who entered was wearing a uniform in the read and white colors of the king's personal guard. 

"Captain, his Highness wants to see you. I have orders to take you to him. Please turn around and put your hands on your back."

Treize complied and allowed the guard to chain him up again.   
_I wonder what the king wants? Perhaps he changed his mind and is going to throw me into the dungeon after all,_ he thought grimly.

***

Milliardo felt miserable, mentally as well as physically. He had not left his chambers all day. His meals which the servants had brought him were sent back nearly untouched. 

After the guards had taken Wufei away, he had tried to get some more sleep, but sleep wouldn't come easily. As soon as he closed his eyes he was forced to relive the events of the night before. But every time they became more blurry and confusing.

_"I want to know the truth about what happened last night_." He could Wufei's voice once again.

_The truth? I'm not sure that I know what the truth is anymore._ Milliardo thought. _What is happening?_

Milliardo had noticed that his father had doubled the guards in the hall. He was a complete fool. He realized that those guards were not only there to protect him but also to watch him at all times. But neither his father, not anybody else seemed to remember that Milliardo was quite athletic. Climbing down from his balcony to the courtyard was rather easy for him.   
By nightfall his headache had finally subsided, which was somewhat of a relief, and Milliardo decided to go on a little stroll.

For somebody who had grown up in this castle and knew where all the guards were posted, it was easy to avoid them. The prince made his way into the rose garden without being seen. He stopped as he entered the garden, and took a deep breath before he walked slowly to a patch of fresh dirt. Apparently somebody had tried to cover up the bloodied soil; a remainder of what had occurred less than a day ago.

Milliardo stared at the dirt, and only then and there realization finally hit him. Overwhelmed with shame and guilt he suddenly broke down. For the first time since in, he couldn't even remember how long, he sobbed.   
What have I done? _What's happening to me? Why am I doing these things?  I don't really want to do them, do I?_   
Perhaps there was one person who could answer his questions. Wufei had come to him for a reason. Milliardo was convinced that that boy knew something that he didn't. Determined to find out what it was the prince headed for the dungeon.  
  


***

Wufei woke when the door to his cell was opened. He sat up and glared suspiciously at the soldier who entered the cell. It was not the same guard who had brought him his meal earlier that evening and as far as he knew nobody was supposed to visit him.

"So, you are that wizard they all talk about?" The man snorted. "I somehow imagined you to be bigger and more intimidating.  Or perhaps you just look this pathetic because you can't use your magic powers." 

"Did you only come to mock me? Or is there another reason for you being here?" Wufei asked calmly.

"Actually, there is," Mueller confirmed. "I'm here to kill you."

"And why is that?" Wufei moved a little so that he could bring his arms behind his back. For his visitor it looked like the boy was just trying to crawl away from him. The man grinned cruelly.  
Wufei's eyes never left Mueller as he started to work on his bracelets. _They were supposed to open. For god sake, why don't they?_ For a moment he almost panicked when he realized the bracelets didn't come off.  
The sparkle of panic in the boy's eyes didn't escape Mueller. He smiled evilly. "Are you afraid? You should be. You are about to die, you know."

Wufei didn't answer but moved further back. With his back braced against the wall he pushed himself up and got slowly on his feet. Mueller pulled a dagger from his belt. The young wizard waited patiently for the man to come closer, then he exploded suddenly. His jump-kick connected with the attacker's right hand. The man was stronger than Wufei had expected. Although he lost hold of his weapon he didn't lose balance. 

Mueller grunted angrily. "You little bastard," he growled, as he swung at Wufei. His large fist connected with the boy's stomach, knocking the air out of him. As Wufei doubled over in pain Mueller took hold of the chain that shackled the boy to the wall. He wrapped it around Wufei's neck with one swift move and started strangling him. 

Wufei kicked and struggled. He tried to push away the larger and much heavier attacker but to no avail. He opened his mouth and gasped but was unable to get any oxygen into his burning lounges. Soon Wufei could feel darkness tickle on the edge of his vision, as the lack of air started to overwhelm him.   
_Am I going to die like this, chained up like a dog, and suffocated?_ This wasn't how he had imagined his life to end. But at this point he couldn't even fight back anymore. He became sluggish and disoriented. His own heartbeat pounded so loud in his ears it drowned out every other noise around him. _Why isn't anybody coming?_ _It wasn't supposed to be like this? Something must have gone wrong. I'm sorry, Treize! I'm sorry for not telling you. I thought I could do this one my own.  
  
_

***

"Mueller!"

The voice seemed to come from far away, and Wufei was too far-gone to recognize it, but suddenly the pressure around his throat eased. He coughed and wheezed as his lounges filled with air, the very essence they had been deprived of for almost too long. Instinctively he untangled the chain from around his neck; all the while wondering why Mueller had not finished him off. Slowly the fog around his brain began to lift and the blackness in front of his eyes disappeared. And when he was finally able to see clearly again he found his attacker fighting with no other than crown prince Milliardo. Still panting he watched the two men knock each other around in the small cell.

Suddenly Mueller had another dagger in his hand, or perhaps it had picked up the same that he had lost earlier. As Milliardo jumped back to avoid the blade he hit the door hard, and slammed it shut. The blond teen reached up and grabbed hold of the doorframe with both hands. He pulled up both legs he kicked Mueller in the chest. The impact sent the man tumbling back toward Wufei. Although the young wizard had only limited use of his hands, he wasn't necessarily helpless. Before Mueller knew what was happening Wufei had jumped up and taken his neck into a lock between his well-muscled legs. With one quick move the boy snapped the would-be assassin's neck, and the man went limp. Wufei let the lifeless body slide to the floor and leaned against the cold stone wall, exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Milliardo swayed slightly. His right hand moved up to wipe at a faint trickle of blood starting to slowly streak down the side of his face.

Wufei just nodded, not trusting his own voice. His throat burned. 

The prince checked the door, only to find that there was no lock from inside. "I don't think it's meant to be opened from in here," he remarked dryly.

"Why isn't the warden coming? We must have made quite some noise." Wufei wondered, his voice hoarse.

Milliardo shook his head. "The warden is dead. I found him when I came down here. I suppose Mueller took him out first." The prince moved Mueller's body into the furthest end of the cell, then gestured to the pile of straw at Wufei's feet.

"Do you mind sharing?"  
"Make yourself a home, your Highness," the young wizard croaked. "And thank you for saving my life. May I ask what you are doing down here anyway?"

"I had come to asked you some questions," Milliardo told him, as settled down in the straw and he made himself as comfortable as the circumstances allowed it. "I thought that you might be able to clear up a few things that I don't seem to understand."

"Go ahead and ask. I don't think we will be going anywhere, any time soon."

  
***  
  


Treize frowned in surprise when he realized that the guard was taking him directly to the king's personal quarters.

King Stephán was waiting for them in his study. "Take off his restrains and leave us alone," he ordered.  
The guard removed the shackled from the captain's arms, saluted and left the room. Treize rubbed his wrists and gave the king a confused look. "You wanted to see me, your Highness?"

Stephán nodded and gestured at a chair "Please, Sir Treize, have a seat. I believe I do owe you an explanation and an apology as well. I'm sorry for the way I had to treat you. Let me assure you that I'd never ever doubt your loyalty to me. But once you hear me out you will understand why it is important that certain people think that I don't trust you or Wufei."  
Treize's frown deepened. "What is going on?" he asked puzzled.  
"I'm afraid I'm not totally sure myself. I think the only person who fully understands what is going on is Wufei?"

"Wufei?" the captain echoed.  
King Stephán nodded. "He came to me early this morning and told me that he didn't believe Milliardo's story about the events of last night. I've got to admit it is hard to believe that Heero would have done anything to harm Milliardo. But then I found it equally hard to imagine that Milliardo would lie about something like that. But Wufei is convinced that somebody is controlling my son with some kind of spell…"

"A spell?" the captain asked in shock. "What kind of a spell?"

"Wufei was not sure. He said that are quite a few spells that could be used to control somebody's mind." The king answered.

"But there is nobody in this castle that can use magic besides Wufei. At least that's what I thought. And he would feel it if another wizard was around."  
King Stephán nodded. "I thought so too. But according to Wufei it is not necessary for the person who performed the spell to be inside this castle physically. He said he suspected that the person was using a medium to channel his energy through. He told me that I did feel something a few nights ago, but wasn't sure what it was then."

"You mean a wizard took possession of the body of another person here in the castle. I had no idea that something like that is possible." the captain remarked concerned.  
"That's just what I said. But Wufei explained to me that it is not as simple as that. Only very powerful wizards are able to perform that kind of magic and secondly the medium has to absolutely willing to allow another entity take possession of his or her body."

"I see." Treize nodded. He wasn't sure thought if that was a very comforting thought; because it meant that somebody inside the castle was a traitor. "Do we know yet who is behind this?"  
Stephán shook his head. "Not yet. But we are working on it."  
"Everything what you told me makes a lot of sense, your Highness. But I still don't understand why you had Wufei thrown into the dungeon." The moment those words were out it hit the captain. Suddenly he understood and everything made perfect sense. He was right, Wufei had no reason to break into Milliardo's chambers and threaten the prince, unless of course he was trying to get somebody's attention.

"You are using him as bait," the captain exclaimed. "You are hoping that the person who is controlling Milliardo will try to get rid of Wufei as well."  
"I'm sorry, but that was **his** plan."

"Why wasn't I informed about this earlier? And with all due respect, your Highness, I don't like the idea of Wufei being put in this kind of danger." _And I don't like the idea of being used as a pawn either._

"I'm afraid that was Wufei's idea as well. He was afraid that you might not agree wit his plan. However, Sir Treize, I assure you that the boy is in no danger. The shackles that he is wearing are real but he can remove them whenever he needs to. I also assigned one of my most trusted guards as a warden in the dungeon for tonight. He will sound the alarm as soon as he notices anything suspicious."  
There was a moment of silence as Treize mulled over and idea. Then he looked up and at the king. "I suppose you will have to make true on your threat and throw me into the dungeon as well."  
King Stephán blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"I want to be near Wufei so that I can be sure that he is safe," the captain explained.

The king nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Very well, Captain. But before I have you "arrested" there is something else I would like to tell you. I think you should know that Heero is not dead."

"Excuse me?" Treize was sure that he didn't hear right.   
"Heero is alive," the king repeated. 

"But how?" Treize frowned. "Nobody can survive a wound like that? Besides, if he is still alive, why are you allowing rumors to spread, that he has died?"  
"I have my reasons." Stephán assured him. "Only the healer, Wufei and I know that he is still alive. And now you know it as well. There are a few things you don't know about Heero. This wasn't really the boy's first **brush with death**. When Heero was about eight years old, one winter day he decided to cross the frozen lake. The ice broke and he got trapped. By the time people were able to free him he was under water for so long that nobody, including myself, thought he was still alive. But once he was brought to the shore he begun to breathe again and he survived the incident with little more than a cold.  And then two summers ago he wanted to find out if one can jump from the bell tower to the outer wall of the castle. I suppose he found out that one can not."

"He fell, and survived?" Treize's eyes grew wide in shock.   
"With little more than a broken leg and some bruises," the king confirmed.

"But how? He is just a normal boy, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid he is not." Stephán replied. "Treize, I suppose you've heard the Legend of the Knight's of Destiny, haven't you? But have you ever thought of it as anything else **but **a legend?"

***

The same guard who had taken Treize to the king escorted him also down to the dungeon. The plan was for the guard to take the captain into the cell just across from Wufei's, and leave him there without locking the cell door.

However, the two men never came that far, because when they came down the stone stairway they found the warden sprawled on the floor in a large puddle of dried blood. The wooden handle of a dagger was sticking out of his back.

"Wufei!" Treize exclaimed in shock. He rushed down the dark corridor toward Wufei's cell. 

_Please, be alright, Wufei. Please be alright._

The captain found the heavy wooden door locked, and he wondered if that was a good sign. A large ring with keys was lying on the gray stone floor. Treize bend down to pick it up.

"Wufei?" He called out as he tried to find the right key. "Wufei, are you alright. Answer me!"

"Master? We are fine, don't worry," Wufei confirmed from inside the cell, and the captain let out a sigh of relieve.

When the door opened Treize stared in surprise first at Wufei, then Prince Milliardo, then Mueller, and finally back at Wufei. He hadn't expected to find anybody but his slave in the cell. "What in the world happened here?"

"That's a rather long story." Wufei answered. His voice sounded a little hoarse.

As the captain stepped closer he noticed the bloody bruising wrapping across his slave's throat. "What happened?" he asked alarmed, as he took the boy's chin in his hand and examined the wound.   
"It's not as bad as it looks, Master," Wufei mumbled, somewhat embarrassed. He gestured toward the dead soldier. "He tried to choke me with a piece of the chain. Luckily Prince Milliardo came just in time to save me."

Treize frowned as his gaze moved down to the shackles around the wizard's wrists. "I thought those were supposed to come off?"

Wufei nodded. "They were. I'm not sure what went wrong. It worked when we tried it earlier. I'm sorry…"  
"You are sorry?" Treize's frown turned to a scowl. "Is that all you have to say? You could have gotten yourself killed, Wufei."

"Please, Treize, don't be too harsh on him…" Milliardo interjected.  
The captain's head snapped around. "What are you doing here anyway?" he asked suspiciously.

"I came because I wanted to talk to Wufei. Perhaps it will be best if we till you the whole story."  
"That will have to wait," Treize decided, as he unlocked Wufei's shackles. "First I'm taking Wufei to the healer."  
"I don't need a healer. I'm fine really. It's just…" Wufei tried to protest, but the captain wasn't so easily convinced.  
"We will see about that."

  
***

Wufei spent the next three days reading through magic books and scrolls, trying to find a way to remove that spell from Prince Milliardo.

Treize seemed still angry with him, and Wufei couldn't say that he blamed his master. The captain escorted him in the morning to the south tower and picked him up after he had finished his duty. Other than that Wufei was only allowed to leave their quarters to visit Prince Millairdo.

The young wizard poked around in his food, listlessly.  
"What is wrong?" Treize asked. "You don't like the roast? I can get you something else."  
Wufei shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'm just not very hungry."

"You need to eat," the captain urged. "You will need your strength tomorrow when you are performing that counter spell on the prince."

"I know." He took a few more bites before pushing his plate away.

"What are you worried about?" Treize asked softly.

"I'm not sure if I'm powerful enough to remove that curse." Wufei confessed. "I have never done anything like it before. I wish we would have been able to capture Mueller alive. Getting some information from him would have helped a lot."  
The captain reached out and covered the boy's hand with his own. "You will do just fine," he assured him. "We should probably go to bed early and get a good night's sleep."

Wufei nodded, as he rose and put their dishes together. He set the tray outside their door where one of the servants would pick it up later. "Good night, Master."

"Good night, Wufei."

As Wufei retreated into his bedroom Treize got up as well. He took off his uniform, and switched into his night clothes. A few moments later he blew out the candle on his nightstand and slipped into the bed.

Hours later Treize was still lying awake, staring into the dark. He felt tired, but sleep just didn't want to come. He turned over once again trying to find a more comfortable position. Moments later he could hear movement in the adjacent room.  

"Why are you not sleeping?" the captain asked, as Wufei entered the main chamber, dressed in his usual white pants but no shirt.

"You aren't sleeping either," the boy retorted. With the snap of his fingers the young wizard lit a few candles in the room. He walked over to the dresser and retrieved a small vial.  
"What are you doing?" his master asked curiously.  
"I'm going to try to get both of use some rest. You can't sleep because you are too tense and I can't sleep because you are tossing and turning. Let me help you to relax and we both shall benefit."

"Hmmm…" Treize wondered what exactly it was that the boy had in mind.  
"Take of your nightgown and turn over," Wufei commanded, as he climbed onto the bed next to the captain. "I need you to lie on your stomach."  
Treize obeyed, and the boy pulled down the bedcovers to his master's hips, revealing the smooth and silky skin of his back. The captain turned his head to the side and watched as Wufei turned off all but one of the candles before he opened the small vial.

"What is it?" he wondered.  
"Scented oil." Wufei held the small bottle under Treize's nose so he could smell the substance. It had an herbal scent to it, very pleasant and a little…relaxing. Wufei poured some of the oil, into his hands, coating them generously. He begun to he run his hands along his master's strong shoulders; carefully working those tense muscles.

Treize closed his eyes in delight and let out a slight moan. "This feels wonderful."

Wufei smiled a little, as his hands moved down the back gently pressing and kneading the soft skin. The captain shuddered when Wufei pressed his thumbs into a pressure point near his spine. The boy's hand moved even lower down to his hips, his fingertip brushing softly against the firm buttocks.

Treize tensed a little and bid his lips. He could feel a prickling heat somewhere in his groin and suddenly he was glad that he was lying on his stomach.

God, I wonder if he even realizes what he is doing to me? Probably not. He is still so innocent…

Wufei's hands worked their way back up to his shoulders, and Treize forced himself to relax. As he surrendered body and mind to the gentle pleasure of the young wizard's massage, it didn't take long before he drifted off.   
When Wufei noticed that his master had fallen asleep he continued his massage for a little while longer then removed his hands. Carefully, not to wake Treize, he pulled the covers back up over his smooth, silky back.  
_I wonder when he finally realizes that I'm willing to give him so much more. What is he trying to protect me from? Doesn't he know I lost that kind of innocence a long time ago?_

With the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, Wufei bend forward, and placed a tender kiss on the man's lips. Treize cracked open one eye. "Wufei?"

The boy jerked back, and his face turned crimson red in embarrassment. "Master! I…I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't…"  
Before Wufei could slip off the bed and escape Treize seized his arm. "Wait, Wufei. I think we need to talk."

Wufei's blush deepened even more and he lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I…"

Treize dipped his head and captured the boy's mouth in a gentle kiss, successfully drowning his apologies.

Wufei closed his eyes and moaned in delight. His lips parted invitingly. He buried one of his hands into his master's hair.

"Gods," he breathed as the finally broke their kiss. "I have been waiting for such a long time for you to do this."   
"Oh, Wufei." Treize whispered. "I had no idea you felt this way. You are shivering. Are you cold?" The captain pulled up the bed quilt and covered the boy.   
Wufei huddled against his master's warm body. Treize gently put his arm around him.

"Are you still angry with me?" the young wizard asked quietly after a moment of silence. "I really am sorry about going to the king behind your back."

"I really was never angry at you," the captain assured him. "Just worried. I care a lot about you, Wufei. I don't want you to get hurt. Now let's try to get some sleep, shall we?" He placed a soft kiss onto Wufei's forehead before he closed his eyes and fell asleep with a content smile. 

***

Prince Milliardo had spent the past three days confined to his quarters. Wufei had sealed his windows and the door to the balcony with a protection spell, which was as much supposed to keep him in as anyone else out. In fact, the young wizard had been his only companion during these days. But that had been Milliardo's own choice. I didn't want to take the risk of hurting anybody else. He had been told that Heero was still alive, which was quite a relief.

Milliardo was lying stretched out on his bed. It would be an understatement to say that he was nervous as he watched the young wizard make the last preparations for his counter spell. 

"Relax," Wufei told him. "You are not going to feel a thing. I'll first put you to sleep and then I'll remove the spell."  
"But there is no guarantee it will really work, is there?" Milliardo asked, voice barely above a whisper.  
"Chances are it will work," the young wizard answered evasively. "Now close your eyes and trust me." He leaned forward to put his hands on the prince's forehead, but Milliardo caught his wrists in mid air and held them.

"I want you to promise me something." He said. "In case this doesn't work, Wufei, I want you to kill me."  
Wufei's eyes widened. "Your Highness, do you have any idea what you are asking?"

"Yes, Wufei, I know. I know exactly what I'm asking. I have thought about it thoroughly. I don't want to live like this. Never knowing what I might do. Who knows who I might hurt next? My father or perhaps even my sister." He shook his head. ""I just can't live like that. I want you to give me your word; your word of honor."  
The young wizard took a deep breath, then nodded once. "You've got my word."  
"Thank you." Milliardo settled back into his pillow and closed his eyes. He trusted the young wizard to do what ever had to be done.

***

After successfully removing the spell from Milliardo Wufei had, with the king's permission, set up a number of wands around the castle and put up a spell that would allow nobody but himself to use any kind of magic inside the royal palace. It took him nearly two days to complete his work, and the research he had done had created a state of chaos in his tower. Books and scrolls were lying everywhere. 

When Wufei heard the door opening behind his back he turned his head. He expected to see Treize, who was really the only person who ever came to visit him here. But instead it was Prince Milliardo who had entered the room.

"What happened here?" The prince gazed around. "It looks like a tornado came through?"

"A wise person once said. Those who keep order are only too lazy to search for something." Wufei replied cheekily.

Milliardo gave him a half-hearted grin. 

 "Is there something I can do for you, your Highness?"  
"No, I think you have already done more than enough. I really came only by to thank you. I'm greatly in your debt, Wufei."

Wufei shook his head. "You saved my life in the dungeon, remember. As far as I'm concerned you don't owe me a thing, your Highness."

"Fair enough," Milliardo nodded. "But do you keep calling me your Highness. I insist that you start using my first name."  
"I'll try to remember." Wufei promised. "How are you feeling?"  
"I have been better, I suppose," Milliardo answered.   
"Do you remember anything that happened?"

The crown prince nodded grimly. "Everything."

"Hmm…" the black-haired boy exclaimed. "I wasn't sure if you would."  
"I wish I wasn't." Milliardo grimaced.  
There was a long moment of silence before Wufei asked. "Did you go and see Heero yet?"

The prince shook his head. "How can I? After what I did to him, why would he want to see me?"

"That wasn't really **you**. It was the spell. There was nothing you could have done. Believe me, Milliardo; I know what I'm talking about. Besides, Heero asked for you yesterday. In fact, one of the first things he wanted to know, after coming to, was if you were well. You should go and see him."  
"I'm not sure I'm quite ready to face him yet." Milliardo answered.

***

"What took you so long?" Heero asked. His voice was still lacking its usually strength, but his blue eyes sparkled bright as always.   
For a long moment Milliardo just stood there and stared at his friend. - Former friend more likely. He didn't think that he had the right to call Heero his friend anymore, after what he had done.   
Should he tell him that he had made several attempts to visit before, but every time he had lost his courage before he had reached Heero's chamber? Should he tell him that he had been standing outside Heero's room for what seemed forever, before he found enough guts to open the door? What in god's name should he tell him?

Finally he just managed to whisper. "I'm sorry…"

The younger boy pushed himself up into a sitting position, and tried hard not to grimace at the pain in his belly.  
"It wasn't your fault, Milliardo. I talked to Wufei, he told me everything. You weren't yourself. And besides I'm alive aren't I?"

"Yes, but not thanks to me." The prince starred at his feet, unable to meet the other boy's eyes.  
Heero shook his head. "I think you are wrong about that."   
Milliardo's head jerked up and he gave the brown-haired boy a puzzled look.  
"Think about it. If you really wanted to kill me you would have stabbed me in the heart. It wasn't like you didn't have the opportunity when I was lying there. If I can forgive you, Milliardo, don't you think you could find it in your heart to forgive yourself?"  
"Perhaps," the prince answered voice barely above a whisper. "Perhaps in time I might be able to."

__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  


T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	8. All Fun and Games

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story _________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 6 – All Fun and Games 

As times went by, things started slowly to return to their normal routine at the royal palace.

As soon as Heero wounds were healed he was back on his feet, and continued his Wushu lessons with Wufei. During weapons training, however Heero could only battle against Captain Treize, because Milliardo simply refused to raise a weapon against him even while practicing. As spring lingered on the crown prince finally started to trust himself again. When summer came, he and Heero were once again inseparable.  And by the time the harvest stated people seemed to have all but forgotten about the terrible things that had happened…  
  


***

For days the royal palace resembled a giant anthill.  First it was servants and slaves that filled the halls, cleaning and tidying; preparing every room for the upcoming event of Princess Relena's birthday. Now those same halls were filled with guests; nobles from all over the Sanc Kingdom. Anybody who was anyone had been invited. For the main festivity, a tournament of skill and strength, more than 30 knights and warriors were expected to compete against each other. 

It had come as somewhat of a surprise that Relena had chosen no other than Lord Yuy to wear her colors and represent her in the tournament. Even thought the young lord was known as an excellent fighter, he was also the youngest and least experienced of the knights in the tournament. Nevertheless, the princess had made it clear that she had great trust in his skills. And the fact that he was still in the tournament after three rounds, when other far more experienced knights had been long eliminated, silenced even the last know-it-all.  
After Princess Relena had made her choice Dorothy Catalonia had quickly chosen Milliardo as "her knight", before any of the other attending ladies could stick claim on the young prince.

Milliardo, who couldn't stand the girl, told his sister that he was considering losing in the first round just to spite Dorothy, but of course he was too much of a man of honor to go through with that.

While the remaining eight fighters prepared themselves for the next round, the crowd was watching a group of traveling entertainers performing some acrobatic acts.   
Since Prince Milliardo and Prince Heero were competing, and their two seats in the royal box were left empty, the king had allowed Relena to invite Dorothy to join them. The king had also ordered for Wufei to remain close by, as much for the boy's protection as for his own. The exotic-looking teen had been attracting quite a few looks from some of the guests. Treize was grateful about the king's consideration.  Some people might consider Wufei free game since he was only a slave, although the captain was certain that the young wizard was quite capable of protecting himself.

"I'm surprised you are interested in watching the tournament, Relena," Dorothy said. "I was under the impression that you despise all kinds of fighting and weapons."

"It's war and killings I do not like," Relena corrected her. "If weapons would be used only for bloodless competition of skills, I would have no problem with that at all." 

"Is it true that Princess Lucrezia Noin and her father were invited to come?" Dorothy turned her head and looked at Relena. 

The princess nodded. "They respectfully declined to come; stating that it is quite a distance to travel between their kingdom and the royal palace. I suspect that to be an excuse though. Relations between our countries are still shaky, and they might consider it a little too premature for such a gesture of good faith."

"It's a pity, though," the other girl said. "I've heard that Princess Lucrezia (1) is quite a warrior and has been competing in various tournaments in her kingdom. I would have loved to see her compete here or even have a chance to duel her myself. It's a shame that this kind of courage is not seen more often."

Wufei, who was standing a little in the back, between Relena and her father couldn't help but overhear the girl's conversation. He snorted at the comment. Dorothy turned, one of her unusual shaped eyebrows raised in surprise. "I take it you don't agree with me, wizard?"  
"With all due respect, my Lady, but women should not be fighting," the boy answered.  
"Why would that be?" Dorothy asked challenging. "You have some kind of problem with women?"  
"Not at all, my Lady," Wufei replied calmly. "It's just that I believe that things like fighting should be left to those who are strong."  
The blond-haired girl crossed her arms in front of her chest in a defensive manner. "So, you think we are weak? What makes you such an expert on women? How many of them have you fought against in your life?"  
"I do not fight woman, it would not be honorable."  
"Well, perhaps you should give it a try some day. You might be in for a surprise. I bet I could teach you a thing or two."

"I seriously doubt that, my Lady," Wufei answered, trying his hardest to remain polite.   
"Careful, Wufei," Relena warned with a smile. "Don't dig yourself into a hole you might not be able to get out. You have never seen Dorothy handle a rapier."

Luckily at the same moment a herald announced the match-up for the next battle, and everybody's attention was diverted.

***

Before Heero changed back into his battle garb he walked to the stable to make sure that his mount had been properly prepared for the jousting event. The white Destrier (2) stallion impatiently pawed the ground, as one of the stable-hands finished adjusting the black and gold bard (3) around the animal's breast and flanks. As the boy noticed that his work was being checked by the young knight, he stopped and looking up, hoping to find approval in those scrutinizing eyes.  
Heero could find no reason to complain. The sun reflected on the stallion's shiny coat; mane and tail were long and silky. The stable boy had done an impeccable job cleaning the horse. After he made sure that Relena's black and pink ribbon was properly tied to the stallion's headgear, the young knight nodded in satisfaction.  
"Well, done. You may saddle him now."  
"Yes, my Lord," the boy's face beamed at the praise, as he went to fetch the high backed tournament saddle.  
Suddenly a hand was put on Heero's shoulder. "Don't bother getting all fancy, you won't be riding him for long enough to enjoy it." The low voice next to his ear sent an unexpected shiver down his spine. Heero turned, and gave Milliardo a questioning look.

The prince chuckled. "I just found out that the two of us will be battling each other, and I have all intentions of making you eat dirt."

"Hn," Heero snorted. "You are welcome to try."  
"You are challenging me?" Milliardo gave his friend a little smirk, as they walked together to their tent to put on their battle garb.   
The armor had been cleaned and polished since their last battle. Their chain mail hauberks and coifs (4) were made by the most skillful weapons smith in all of Sanc; their plate armor forged from the finest metal. Heero's chest-plate was almost identical to the one the crown prince wore. Both of them bore the crest of the royal family. The rest of their armor however, differed. Heero had been always one to choose efficiency over beauty. His helmet and gauntlets lacked any kind of décor. Milliardo on the other hand liked things a little more flamboyant.

***

Less than an hour later Heero stormed into the white canvas tent that he and Milliardo were sharing. His helmet flew in one corner, a gauntlet in the other, followed by another one. He was furious not because he had lost, but because of the way it had happened. He had actually managed to knock Milliardo off his mount with a clean hit, but during the sword fight that followed the prince had gotten the upper hand. While his attention was directed fully at his opponent's weapon, Heero had not noticed that he soil beneath his feet was wet and slippery. As he tried to dodge one of Milliardo's assaults he had tripped and fallen into the mud.

He felt like he had not only lost the battle, but also embarrassed himself and Relena in front of everybody.

Heero cursed as he tried to untie the straps of his chest-armor.  
"Let me help you with that," a voice offered.

The boy nearly jumped. For the second time today Milliardo had managed sneaked up on him without effort.

"Thank you," he mumbled.   
Nimble fingers started to undo the leather straps, and for a moment Milliardo's left hand, seemingly unintentionally, rested on Heero's lower back. 

The young knight almost gasped at that touch.

_What the hell was that? Milliardo and I have touched each other before, why did this feel so different?_  
The prince straightened up and watched as his friend removed the chest-plate and put it aside. He could tell that Heero was still angry.

"If it means anything to you, Heero, I'm sorry that you lost."

The boy glared at him, eyes narrowed. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You won fair and square."

"That's not completely true. If you hadn't slipped, things might have ended differently." Looking down at the other boy the prince suddenly chuckled. "Do you know that you have mud in your hair?"

Heero shot him an angry glare and he sighed. "I'm sorry. You'll have to wash that out, but the bathing rooms are probably filled right now.  Come to think of it, I could use a hot bath myself. Why don't you join me?"

Heero hesitated a moment before he nodded. Milliardo seemed almost relieved that he accepted the offer.  
  


***

Duo should have been suspicious when Trowa voluntarily accompanied his uncle to Whitewater castle, for the king's annual hunting party. After all it was no secret that the prince disliked hunting. And Duo knew that he liked the people his uncle associated with even less.

And if that wasn't suspicious enough, Duo should have definitely been alarmed when Trowa declared right after dinner that he was going to turn in early and didn't want anybody to disturb him till morning. 

But perhaps it never crossed Duo's mind that his friend would deceive him. Never had the two of them had kept any secrets from each other. So, it came as a total surprise when Duo went to check on Trowa and found his bed and room empty; the window cracked open just far enough to allow him to return unnoticed later on.

_For God sake, Trowa, are you out of your mind? What do you think you are doing? _The braided boy thought. There was not the slightest doubt in his mind to where Trowa had gone. The cave where he and Trowa had met that strange blond boy was probably no more than six miles away, but unfortunately so was the border to the Sanc Kingdom. Duo could hardly believe that his friend acted so carelessly. If somebody was going to catch the prince of Crownwood in enemy territory, he would be in great danger.  
A furious Duo headed to the stable and saddled his own horse as well as Trowa's stallion. When he told the guards at the drawbridge that he was exercising the horses at Trowa's order they looked at him strangely, but knew better than to question the crown prince's bidding.  
  


***

By the time Heero had fetched a fresh change of clothes and gone back to the prince's quarters, Milliardo was already sitting in the large pool-like tub, in his private bathing room. He looked relaxed with his eyes closed, his head resting against the rim, long, pale-blond hair floating in the water around him. As Heero stripped out of his clothes his eyes kept wandering over his friend's flawless body.  
"Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there?" Milliardo finally asked. He opened his eyes lazily. "The water is perfect."  
Heero stepped into the tub, settled down into the warm water, and reached for the soap. He dowsed his hair, washed it thoroughly, then slipped under the surface to rinse off the suds and dirt. When he came back up, and opened his eyes he caught Milliardo watching him. But before he could think anything of it, the prince had already averted his gaze. A few moments later he stood up and climbed out of the pool. With his back turned toward Heero, he started to dry himself off.

The brown-haired boy couldn't help but notice how well built the prince's body was. Muscles shifted beneath flawless cream-colored skin with every move the young man made.  
Heero felt a strange warm feeling spreading throughout his body and settling in his loins. He quickly aimed his eyes at the bar of soap in his hand and concentrated hard on the task of washing himself. Once he was done he climbed out of the water, toweled himself off and started to get dressed. Milliardo was still drying his long pale-blond hair.

Heero found himself once again staring at his friend's well proportioned backside.

_For God sake, what's wrong with me? It's not like I have never seen Milliardo in the nude. Paigan used to stick us in the same tub all the time when we were children. But perhaps that's just it, back then we were children. We have not taken a bath together for a long time. There is certainly nothing childlike about this body anymore. _

"Got a good look?" Milliardo suddenly asked in an amused tone of voice.

Heero instantly lowered his eyes, and his face turned bright red in embarrassment. The prince chortled. It was a soft and pleasant sound. He dropped his towel to the floor and put on a pair of brown leather pants. "Heero, there is no reason to be ashamed. I just hope you like what you see. To tell the truth, I have been looking for an excuse to get you in here for quite a while. Gods, Heero, do you have any idea how attractive you are?"  
Heero swallowed. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or even more embarrassed. 

Milliardo, still shirtless, threw his hair over his shoulder and walked over to his friend. He gently put two fingers under Heero's chin, lifting it up slightly so that their eyes met. He raised his other hand and softly caressed the younger boy's cheek. Heero tensed a little under that touch but didn't flinch away. He and Milliardo had played, fought and roughhoused together ever since they were small, but never had his friend touched him in such a gentle way. The young knight was amazed and shocked at the same time, as he felt his body respond to that gentleness. His pants started to become a little tight. He swallowed nervously and hoped that Milliardo wouldn't notice.

"Heero…I…" Suddenly the young prince dipped his head. His lips touched Heero's, cautiously at first but when the younger teen didn't resist he kissed him harder. "Heero, I wanted to do this for so long now. In fact there are a lot of other things I would like to do with you. I never dared to ask because I was afraid of how you might react."

As Heero realized what Milliardo was suggesting, he felt his cheeks burning once again. When he looked down he noticed the bulge in his friend's pants was just as large as his own.

"I think… I'm fine with whatever it is you would like to do," he answered, surprised how hoarse his voice was.

Milliardo looked into his face, scrutinizing, studying it. "Heero, I wouldn't want to do this unless I'm certain that is something that **you** want too."  
Heero smirked a little. "Make no mistake; I would never agree to **anything** I didn't want to do."  
Milliardo smiled. It was all the reassurance he needed.  
"Then let's go into the bedroom," he suggested, as he stole another kiss. He didn't even bother putting on his tunic, considering that he probably wasn't going to wear it long enough to warrant the effort.  
  


***

Milliardo could sense his friend's insecurity as they walked together into the prince's bedchamber. When the young prince moved toward Heero to embrace him he noticed a faint blush on the boy's cheeks, and for just a moment he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He reminded himself that the boy was a few years younger than he was and probably far less experienced. But although he was younger, Heero was unbelievably attractive. For quite a while now Milliardo had found himself fantasizing about taking their friendship to a new level. He captured the boy's mouth with his own. His tongue traced the curves of those sensuous lips until they parted slightly. As he slipped his tongue into the hot cavern, he moaned softly as he felt Heero responding to his kiss. He could feel his breath quicken and he tightened his embrace, bringing their bodies even closer.  
  
Heero felt like he was drowning in a sea of previously unknown sensations as one of Milliardo's hands slipped down his back, came to a hold on his buttock, and started gently stroking and kneading the firm flesh.

When their lips finally parted Heero pulled back slightly, just enough to make Milliardo concerned. "Are you alright? You didn't like that?

"No, I mean yes, I did like it, but…I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, Milliardo," Heero confessed. "I've never… umm…never done this before."

Assuming that his friend meant that he had never lain with another man, the prince smiled reassuringly at him.   
"Don't worry, Heero. It will be fine. Just let me take control and I'll show you that it can be as pleasant and enjoyable as being with a woman."

"I've never done this with a woman either," the young knight answered.  
Milliardo smirked. "Come on, Heero. I know it's not honorable to kiss and tell, but it's **me** you are talking to." He had seen those looks Heero got from the girls in the palace. And he knew from experience how eager to please some of the female servants were. "With all those pretty skirts around here you can't tell me…"   
But then he noticed the color creeping up into the boy's cheeks again. _By god, he is serious. He has never lain with anybody. _"Forgive me, Heero. It was not my intention to embarrass you."  
"Is this…a problem?" Heero asked hesitant.

Milliardo gave him another reassuring smile and shook his head. "It will make it all the more precious. I promise, we will not do anything you do not like. I'll show you how beautiful it can be. Trust me! "  
The knowledge that his friend was going to be in control and all he had to do was to trust Milliardo, made Heero feel a little more comfortable. He was anxious and excited at the same time.

Heero allowed the young prince to lift him up and place him onto the wide, four-posted bed. The prince leaned over him and started to nipple at the soft skin at the nape of Heero's neck. The young knight closed his eyes and moaned softly. He felt soft hands slip beneath his tunic and gently caress his torso. When Milliardo's hands started to push the fabric up he lifted his arms so that the young man could pull the garment over his head. Once the boy's torso was bare Milliardo pushed himself up. Kneeling over his friend he smiled softly as he inspected every inch of that well- muscles body. When his gaze fell on a large scar at the Heero's abdomen his eyes darkened. 

As he noticed the pain in those ice blue eyes, Heero reached up, took the prince's face into both hands and lifted it gentle. He shook his head slightly he told the young man: "Please don't. It wasn't you. Don't think about it. Not now."

Milliardo gave the boy a ghost of a smile then started to place soft butterfly kisses all over Heero's abdomen. Feeling those hot lips on his bare skin made the boy shiver. He could feel himself becoming even more aroused. Milliardo worked his way up to his chest and started to tease one of Heero's nipples with his tongue.

The boy gasped. "Milliardo!"

The prince let out a low laugh, then turned his head to torment the other nub. His effort was rewarded with a soft moan. Heero wrapped his arms around the young man's body and let his fingertips wander slowly down Milliardo's back. He could feel his friend shiver in response. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Milliardo's pants and started caressing the firm flesh that he found there.  
The prince, still working on Heero's nipple, moaned against his skin.

Heero felt his senses going into overdrive. His body was screaming for more of this delightful torture, but there was something inside him that told him otherwise. "We shouldn't…" he panted.  
"Huh?" Milliardo asked, without stopping his assault.  
"…Shouldn't do this now. This is Relena's special day." Heero said. "We should be with her at the feast. I let her down already once today; I don't want to do it again."

Reluctantly the prince pulled away from the boy's chest and sighed. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart …and raging hormones. Not an easy task, but he managed. "You are right, I suppose," he agreed.

"Besides, you wouldn't want to deprive Lady Dorothy of her right to sit next to you at the supper table, would you?"  
Milliardo gave a low growl. "Did I ever tell you that you have an evil streak in you?"

Heero gave the prince one of his rare smirks, which made Milliardo almost forget everything about Relena's birthday and the feast. With another sigh he forced himself to get off the bed. Before he reached for his tunic he declared with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "But this doesn't mean we can't finish what we started later on tonight."

Heero shrugged. "By then we might have forgotten where we left of and we will have to start over from the beginning." 

***

Quatre couldn't wait for the castle to quiet down for the night. Once it was dark enough, and most people had gone to sleep, he slipped past the guards and headed off into the woods. 

His heart was beating wildly but nor just because he was running. Last night Quatre had dreamed, and in his dream the strange boy from the cave had come to see him. He had thought about that boy many times, but never before had Quatre dreamed about him. He had not been sure if it meant anything until earlier today, when he had felt something strange deep within him. This feeling combined with his dream seemed like a message to him; a message that he just couldn't ignore.  
He hurried through the woods, climbed up the hill and entered the cave, only to find it empty. There was no sign that anybody had been here since his last visit. For just a moment Quatre felt disappointed. But when he heard a noise behind him, he smiled softly. He knew before he even turned that it was **him**.

The tall, brunette boy was leaning at the wall next to the entrance, arms crossed in front him. Quatre recognized him instantly. 

"I hope you haven't been waiting for long?" he asked in a soft voice as he stepped closer. "I had to wait for everybody to go to sleep before I could leave the castle."

"How did you know I was here?"

Quatre smiled mysteriously. "I just knew."

"What's your name?" the other boy asked, looking directly at him.

For the first time Quatre was able to see his eyes. They were of a most stunning emerald green color and somewhat cryptic. "My name is Quatre."  
"Quatre," the boy echoed. He let the name roll slowly from his tongue. "What a beautiful name. I have been sitting outside watching the stars while I was waiting for you."  
Quatre smiled softly. "I love the night sky."

"Let's watch it together, shall we," the other boy suggested.

Quatre nodded and followed him outside. They settled down on a fallen log and for a while they stared silently into the dark. 

"You haven't told me your name yet." Quatre said after a while.  
"You can call me Trowa."

"Trowa, why did you come here tonight?"

The boy looked at him, somewhat surprised about the question, the shrugged. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I have been thinking about you, a lot."

Quatre nodded understandingly. He too had found it impossible too to get the strange boy out of his mind.

"And then…" Trowa continued.  "I never had a chance to thank you for what you did. You probably saved my life."  
Quatre smiled modestly. "It was really nothing special."

As Trowa turned toward him his eyes fell upon the color around Quatre's neck.  
"You are a slave."  
"So what? I have been a slave for most of my life." Quatre answered. His eyes narrowed and his voice became rather defensive. "Does it make a difference?"

"No," Trowa shook his head. "It doesn't make any difference to me."

When he gazed at the blond boy he could see that he was shivering. 

 "You are cold?" It was more of a statement than a question.  
 Quatre blushed slightly. "I'm fine," he insisted.

Before he could protest Trowa had taken off his jerkin and slipped it around Quatre's shoulders. The boy gave him a grateful smile.

 "Quatre, come with me. I can keep you safe. You would have to be no longer a slave."

Quatre shook his head. "I can't" he answered, his eyes filled with sadness. "Duke Dermail told me that if I ever was to run away again the other slaves would have to pay for it. I can't do that. I can't let him hurt them because of me."

Trowa's eyes narrowed in anger. "How can your king allow this kind of cruelty?"  
Quatre sighed. "I don't think he knows what is really going on. It's a long way to the royal palace. The king doesn't visit Oakwood County very often. And if he does my master makes sure that everything seems in order until he is gone. But let's not talk about me anymore. You have not told me anything about yourself yet. Your garments are too fine to be those of a simple commoner." The boy carefully touched the soft leather of the jerkin around his shoulders. "I know most of the nobles that live in Oakwood. You are not from around here, are you?"

Trowa gave him the ghost of a smile. "Not from this side of the border, no."  
"You are from Crownwood?" Quatre eyes widened slightly. As looked up at him Trowa couldn't help but notice how beautiful those turquoise blue eyes were.

"Does it make a difference?" Trowa asked.

Suddenly Quatre picked up a noise. Somebody was approaching. He put his finger over his lips and mouthed. "Somebody is coming."

Trowa nodded as he rose. He had heard it too. He was unarmed, because it was impossible to carry a weapon when he was in his feline form. For a moment he considered shifting, but then he recognized the figure that was sneaking toward the cave.

"Duo?!"

The boy jerked around. "Trowa! What in god's name are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?"

"Duo, what are you doing here?" Trowa asked irritated.  
"I came to take you home, your Highness." the braided boy answered. "I brought horses."  
"I'll go home when I'm ready." Trowa retorted angrily. "Go and wait by the horses. I'll be there soon."

Duo opened his mouth for a reply something, but stopped himself when his friend's eyes narrowed. The look on Trowa's face made it clear that he was in no mood for arguments.

As Duo turned and walked away Quatre started at the green-eyed boy in surprise as well as shock.

"Your Highness?" he asked, repeating what the braided boy had called Trowa. "You are the heir to the Crownwood Kingdom?"  
Trowa nodded. "Prince Triton IV, the one and only. But most people call me Trowa."  
_That other boy is right, he shouldn't even be here. It's not safe. Why would he put himself in danger like this?_

Quatre slipped the jerkin from his shoulder and held it out to Trowa. He tried to avoid looking at the other boy as he said. "I'd better go now."

The prince nodded. "I need to go too. Can I see you again, Quatre? Don't worry about Duo, he is all bark and no bite. He can't stop me from coming back."

"I'm sorry, but I won't be coming back."   
"But why?" the prince asked in surprise. 

"You are a prince, I'm only a slave."

Trowa shrugged. "I told you already; that makes no difference to me. I like you. I like being with you."

"I'm sorry, your Highness, but if you are looking for a plaything to spice up your otherwise boring life I'm not the right person."

 Trowa's eyes widened. He felt like he had been slapped in the face. His mouth opened for a response but he was too hurt to find the right words.

Quatre turned quickly and walked away, making sure the young prince didn't see the tears that started to fill his eyes. 

_I know you probably hate me now, but it's only for the best. I don't want to put yourself in danger every time you come here. I couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt because of met.   
_He started running and when he was sure nobody was following him Quatre didn't fight the tears back any longer, letting them run freely down his cheeks._ Please forgive me, Trowa!  
  
_

***

When Wufei entered the quarter that he and his master shared, he found the captain lying sprawled out on the bed dressed in only his breeches and the white shirt he usually wore beneath his blue uniform jacket.

At the sound of the door opening Treize propped himself up on one elbow. The young wizard noticed that he looked worn out.

"Hard day?" he asked sympathetically.

"You can say that again." The captain sighed. "Some of the guests I don't trust further than I can see them, and if it was up to me they wouldn't be allowed within a 100 mile distance to the palace. – How was your day?"

"Boring," Wufei stated. It pretty much wrapped it up. "I couldn't go ten feet without having people approach me and ask me to show them some **Magic,** as though it is some kind of entertainment."  
"At least **you had** company. If I remember right somebody was supposed to join me for supper." Treize complained.

Gulp! Wufei felt instantly a wave of guilt wash over him and he lowered his eyes. With everything going on during the day he had totally forgotten about it

"Bad slave." Treize scolded teasingly. 

"Yes I am," the boy nodded in agreement, as he gave him a mischievous look. "You might have to punish me."  
"I'm afraid I will," the captain confirmed with as much seriousness as he could master. Then he added thoughtfully. "What am I going to do to teach my disobedient slave some responsibility?"  
"I could come up with quite a few ideas, Master." Wufei answered with a grin. He enjoyed their little games as much as his master did.

"Hush," the captain told him. "First I think I'll need to get you out of these clothes." He rose, picked the boy up with ease, and placed him gently onto the bed. Then he started to undress Wufei, by slipping the sleeveless top over his head.

He looked down at the smooth golden skin of the boy's slightly muscular torso Treize smiled evilly as he began his "torture". Aware that Wufei was delightfully ticklish, he was planning to fully exploit that fact. He ran his fingertips over those sensitive spots at the boy's waist and smiled as Wufei tried to squirm away. The captain leaned forward and covered Wufei's lips with his own. Keeping him pinned down like that he continued tickling him, ignoring the muffled pleads to stop. The boy tried to get a hold of his lover's hands. Treize just chuckled and seized Wufei's wrists. He pinned them down in one hand while he continued his assault with the other.

"The palace is full of people. Somebody might hear us," Wufei panted, as Treize took a break to mercifully allow the boy to catch his breath.

"It should be of nobody's concern what I do with my slave behind closed doors."

The way the captain whispered these words into his ear sent little shivers of pleasure down Wufei's spine. He was very eager to find out what else his lover had planned for him. But for now Treize went back to tormenting him by running his soft fingers over his skin, tickling here and teasing there. Wufei writhed and wriggled but couldn't get away from his lover's teasing fingertips.

"Stop it! Stop!" he demanded.

Treize raised one eyebrow in playful surprise. "Since when do you think you can tell me what to do? I'm afraid you haven't learned your lesson yet."  
"Stop or I'm going to turn your hair blue," Wufei warned. "Let's see how you would like that."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Just try me." Wufei retorted.  
"Hmm…" Treize huffed. "I suppose I'll have to make sure I keep this pretty little mouth of yours occupied with other things than magic spells." The captain dipped his head, and covered the boy's mouth in another kiss. His tongue traced those full lips gentle, begging for entrance. When Wufei parted his lips slightly in compliance, his tongue slipped into the hot cavern and plundered it. He groaned at the sweet taste. Wufei shuddered at the sensation; his own tongue started to spar with the intruder.

When their lips finally broke Treize pulled back. The boy moaned in disappointment. But moments later that sound was replaced by purrs of pure enjoyment, as his lover moved down to his feet, slipped off his footwear and started to place a trail of soft butterfly kisses all the way up his leg. 

Treize gave special attention to the sensitive skin at the boy's inner thigh and was rewarded for his effort with a couple of soft moans.

The captain's hands untied the sash that held Wufei's white pants in place, and continued to undress the boy. Once the last garment was gone, Treize pushed himself up and took a step back to admire the delightful sight of the beautiful body spread out on the bed totally exposed. He felt a prickling heat spreading in his groin. He wanted to taste every inch of that lovely body; wanted to make the boy mad with desire. He wanted to hear Wufei scream out his name in ecstasy.

Wufei smiled up at him eyes slightly clouded with passion and desire.

"I think you are enjoying this way too much for a punishment." Treize growled.

Wufei let out a low chuckle. 

As the captain climbed back onto the bed and leaned over the boy, he was suddenly assaulted, flipped onto his back and pinned down. Once again Treize realized that Wufei was a lot stronger than he looked.

"Payback time," Wufei announced with a low growl, as he started to untie the laces that held his lover's shirt together. He peeled the shirt away to exposed flawless cream-colored skin.

Treize struggled, just enough to pretend he didn't like the position he was in. However, his struggles ceased immediately when Wufei lowered his head onto his chest and began to toy with one of his nipples. 

Swirling his tongue around the hardening nub Wufei smiled at the soft whimpering he managed to coax out of the captain, with each flick of his tongue.

The two lovers had been playing this game for long enough to know the most sensitive spots on each other's body. Now alternating between both nipples he continued to suck softly on the sweet buds, while his fingertips, barely touching the soft skin, moved slowly down the man's magnificently shaped body. 

When those slender fingers reached his groin, Treize shivered and let out a muffled sigh of pleasure. The boy could feel his heart beating even faster. The pressure in his own groin increased at the sweet sounds escaping his lover's mouth. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly Treize flipped the boy over and positioned himself on top again as he had intended it in the first place. Wufei let out a low growl of frustration.

Treize's eyes sparkled playfully. "Foolish little slave. You should have known better," he scoffed. "Now I'll have to punish you even more."

"Is that a promise?" Wufei asked with a naughty smile.

Instead of an answer, Treize captured the boy's mouth in a passionate kiss. Hungrily he sucked on Wufei's lower lip then moved down to the nape of the neck. The boy's hands came up and started to move over the his chest.  
"You are wearing way too many clothes," Wufei complained. His voice was heavy with desire.  
"Hmm…I think you might be right. We can't have that now, can we?"  
Treize rose quickly and began to shed his own clothes, while he let his eyes wander over Wufei's body. It was a sight he could never get enough of. The raven-black hair in sharp contrast to the pristine white sheets, those obsidian eyes sparkling with passion and lust, those beautiful lips swollen from the kisses they had exchanged, golden-colored, flawless skin, body and limbs muscular and in perfect proportion, legs bent and slightly parted in an unspoken invitation. It was a picture of eroticism in the flesh. The sight made his blood boil and his already hardened member throb.

"Better now?" Treize whispered low, as he climbed back into bed.

"Much better." The boy nodded, flung his arms around his lover's neck and pulling him down to kiss him hungrily. As Wufei began to ravish his lover's neck and chest with his mouth, his hands moved down his back, stopping only when they reached the older man's buttocks. Soft fingertips traced the cleft between those two firm curves.  
Treize moaned and tightened his own hold on the boy and brought their bodies even closer; hips grinding, stiff erections brushing against each other. The throbbing in his manhood and the growing urge to take the boy became hard to ignore. The captain sighed when he remembered something and tried to free himself carefully out of Wufei's embrace. The boy's eyes flew open and he gave a low growl as he felt the pressure against his body lessening.   
"I need to get something," Treize whispered, and placed a kiss on the boy's forehead.  
Wufei, unwilling to loose the contact with his lover's warm body, just raised one arm lazily. His mouth formed a few words, too low for Treize to understand, and across the room a small trunk opened with a low squeaking sound. The young wizard frowned in concentration as he rummaged through the chest with his mind's eye. He smiled when he found the item he was looking for and made an upward motion with his hand. A small vial rose from within the trunk and slowly began to float toward the bed.   
Treize snatched the little bottle out of the air.

_I suppose having your personal wizard **does** have its advantages… sometimes._  
"Thank you, dear."  
"My pleasure."   
"It will be," the captain assured him with a low chuckle.  
_._

***

"Trowa, say something," Duo pleaded. "I know that you are angry at me. So yell at me or do something. But don't just ignore me. Talk to me, please!"

The prince had not spoken a single word since they had mounted their horses. They had been riding quietly ever since. Trowa wasn't much of a talker by nature, but this was different, the braided boy could tell. 

"Haven't you been talking enough for the two of us?" Trowa answered tersely.

"Or just insult me; of course that's an option too," Duo pouted.

Trowa signed and slowed down his steed till he was riding next to his friend. "Forgive me, Duo. I didn't mean that. I know you are just concerned about my safety…"  
"Sure as hell I am. Since you don't seem to care about what happens to you, somebody has to watch out for you," the braided boy retorted.

"But I don't need a nursemaid anymore, Duo. I need a friend; a friend who understands that I can take care of myself and who trusts my judgement."

Duo was quiet for a long time, longer than Trowa could ever remember, as he reflected on what the prince had said. Then he just smiled wryly. "I'm sorry Trowa. I'll try to remember that. – And if I don't…" His smile grew cheerful. "…you got permission to kick my behind."

Only a short time later they crossed the drawbridge and rode into the castle yard. Duo frowned as he recognized the black stallion that was tethered outside one of the stables, and the man who was standing beside it.

"It's him." The braided boy let out a low growl. "Do you think it would be considered a terrible crime if I would kill him right now?"

"His name is Ysard Catorce." Trowa spoke as he glared at the man. "My uncle invited him for the hunting party."  
"Catorce?" Duo echoed. "Isn't that the name of Emperor Tubarov's sorceress?"

"I believe he is her brother."  
"Lovely family," Duo smiled sarcastically, as the two boys stopped their horses by the stable and dismounted. Just then the hunter noticed them, and walked closer. He smiled thinly as he gave Trowa a curt nod.

"Your Highness, what a pleasure to meet you." And in Duo's direction he said. "So we meet again. Do you still have that crossbow you took from me?"

"I left it in the forest. I didn't think you'd need it for the kind of prey you were hunting." Duo replied. He made no effort to keep his antipathy for the man out of his voice. "I'm sure it takes a special sort of man to chase down defenseless young boys."

The hunter looked at the braided boy, the expression in his black eyes never changing. "I assure you that boy was not as defenseless as he looked. Things are not always as they seem, my dear friend. But I'm sure you know that all too well."

Trowa gestured for Duo to take their horses away before his friend could say anything they might regret later on.

"Your Highness, will you join the hunting party tomorrow?" Ysard asked the prince.

"No."

"What a pity. I would have loved to find out if your squire is as good of a shot as he pretends to be."   
"Unlike you, I do not take pleasure in taking the life of another creature, human or beast, Lord Catorce." Trowa replied calmly. And with a dangerous sparkle in his green eyes he added. "But make no mistake, my Lord, I **will** kill if I feel threatened."  
"I'll make sure to keep that in mind, your Highness." With another curt nod the man turned and left.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's notes:  
(1) Since in real live as well as in literature royalty is usually known by their first name (i.e. King Arthur, Queen Elisabeth, Prince Edward etc) and simply because Princess Noin sounds kind of strange, I'm going to refer to her as Princess Lucrezia throughout the story.  
  
(2) Destrier - also known as war-horse are heavy breed stallions which were specially trained for the use in battles or tournaments. Destriers could easily carry a knight in full battle garb and then some. Their size and weight (up to 2x heavier than the average horse) gave the knight a large advantage over opponents on normal riding horses. Sometimes they were outfitted with spike studded armor to take down any foot-soldier in their path. Even during the medieval times Destriers were rare and very expensive. The disadvantage of a Destrier is his heavy gait which would have made long rides rather uncomfortable. Therefore most knights used smaller horses with gentler gaits outside of battle and tournament.

(3) Bard - the ornamental, ribbon-like fabric around the horse's neck, breast or flanks. Bards served not only the purpose of decoration, but were sometimes stuffed with straw or other padding material to provide some protection for the horse (I guess you could think of it as something like a bumper)

(4) Chain mail hauberks and coifs (shirts and hoods) – were usually worn as additional protection beneath other armor made from plate metal or leather.

**What's to come: **Part 7 - When Nightmares become Reality  
Lady Catorce employs her brother to capture Heero Yuy. Prince Milliardo, Lord Yuy and his guards are attacked.

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	9. When Nightmares become Reality

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story Dyna: I'm sorry but you will have to wait a while for your 1x2. In fact at least 10 more chapters. _________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Part 7 – When Nightmares Become Reality

The sorceress entered her chamber with an annoyed look on her face -or perhaps it was the way she always looked. At the swift motion of her right hand several candles in the room flickered to life. She jerked around when she felt a presence and noticed a slight movement to her right. Bluish sparks danced around her hands. She was ready to kill whoever had dared to enter her room. At the last moment however she recognized the intruder, and the bolt of energy hit the wall just inches above his head.  
"Don't ever do that again," she snapped. "Not unless you are trying to get yourself killed."  
The black-clad man gave her a smooth grin. "I'm glad to see you too, Sister Dearest. Though, I thought for sure that I would be addressing you as Empress by now."  
Her face darkened even more. "Tubarov isn't quite ready yet to take that step."  
"Perhaps he is just smart enough to realize that the day he marries you will be the day he signs his own death sentence." The man replied, as he settled down in one of the high-backed armchairs.

She turned and glared at him furiously. "Ysard, you might be my brother, but make no mistake. Push me too far and I'll kill you."  
Ysard raised one eyebrow in amusement. "Do you really think threatening the person you need help from is such a good idea?"  
"What makes you think I need your help?" she snapped irritated.

His expressions became even more amused. "You don't want to tell me that you sent for me just so we can catch up on old times or strengthen the family bond, do you?"

"You have always been straightforward, haven't you?" The sorceress snorted. Her anger subsided slowly. She stepped over to a table by the fireplace, filled two goblets with dark red wine and offered one of them to her brother. Her own glass in hand, she took a seat across from him. "Are you still doing your usual line of work?"  
"Hunting?" he asked.

"I meant bounty collection, you know that very well."  
He smirked again. "But Sister, of course I do. Don't you know that human prey is the most challenging of them all? And I'm always up for a good challenge."  
"Good. I hope you are as good as they say. This boy might be more of a challenge than even you can handle?"  
"Try me!" He smiled complacent. "Did you say a boy? Is he good looking?"  
"Does your mind always work in just one direction?" She asked with an annoyed snort.

He looked at her amused. "A man's got to have some kind of a hobby. Being allowed to stake claim on that boy before turning him over to you would be a nice incentive, you know."  
Now Yvonne looked truly disgusted.   
"Do whatever you want with him. But keep in mind that I need him alive and not permanently harmed. And please spare me your perverted details," she spat.

He merely laughed as he took a sip from his wine.  
"I'll have a servant show you to one of the guestrooms. We can talk about all the details tomorrow morning," his sister told him. "I'll have to go now. Tubarov is expecting me."  
"He is expecting you at this time of night? And where would that be; in his bedchamber? And you are calling **me** perverted." He laughed even harder, not the least intimidated by the deadly glare she gave him. He knew he was safe as long as she needed him.  
He watched as she left the room without another word.

***

King Stephán and Captain Treize watched as the crown prince, accompanied by Lord Yuy and an escort of fifteen guards, left the Royal Palace. The small group was heading for Hedinbourgh Castle, one of the royal family's smaller estates, where the prince would tend to some state affairs. It was the first time that Milliardo was expected to make decisions regarding the county and the kingdom on his own, even if they were relatively minor decisions.

Once the castle's outer gate had closed behind the riders, the king turned to the captain. 

"This might seem kind of strange, Treize. For the past few years I have hoped and prayed for Milliardo finally to grow up. But now I think I'm not quite ready for it."  
"I can understand that, your Highness." Treize replied. "I don't think anybody is ever ready for his children to grow up. But you are correct; Milliardo has become a mature young man. Still, I feel like I should be the one escorting them not Lieutenant Otto."

"What's the problem? Not enough confidence in your second's abilities?"

Treize shook his head. "No, that's not it. I would trust Otto with my own life. But I still would feel better if you would have let Wufei or myself accompany Prince Milliardo to Hedinbourgh."  
"I'm sure you would," Stephán replied. "But I need you and Wufei to escort Relena to Oakwood County in a few days."

Treize's expression turned dark in an instant and the king added. "I know, I know. Dermail is one of those people who would smile into your face while planning your assassination. But I don't think it is right to hold that against his niece. Besides, Relena has been asking me for so long now to let her visit Dorothy that I quite frankly ran out of reasons to say no."

"Don't worry, your Highness, Dermail would not dare to do anything while Wufei and myself are around," the captain reassured the king.

"That's what I'm counting on."  


***

Prince Milliardo and his escort had spent the first night at a tavern near the main road to Hedinbourgh. They left the inn early in the morning. If everything went as planned, they should reach their goal within three days.

Hedinbourgh was a small but heavily fortified castle, designed as a place of refuge for the royal family during times of war. Milliardo had many fond memories of childhood fun and mischief about the place.

The group was approaching the Wind River, when one of the scouts returned and reported that the bridge that they had planed on crossing no longer existed.

"How can it be gone?" Lieutenant Otto asked.

"I'm not sure Lieutenant. All what's left are the support beams. Perhaps it got destroyed and swept away during the last storm."

Otto nodded thoughtfully. That was a possibility.

"Do you think we will be able to swim across the river?" Prince Milliardo asked.

The Lieutenant shook his head. "Not around here. The river is too deep and the current too strong. The packhorses would never make it through. We will have to find another bridge and change our route accordingly." Otto turned to face his men. "We will be resting here," he announced.  
As the group dismounted and the soldiers took care of the horses, the Lieutenant, Heero and Prince Milliardo gathered around a large map.  
"It looks like we have two options." Otto said. "We could head north and cross the river near Helmsboro, that's about 30 miles from here. Or we could use a bridge that's about here." He pointed at a spot on the map south from where they were now.  
"It looks to me like that one is a lot closer," Prince Milliardo remarked.

"True," Heero agreed. "But that road will take us right into Beechwick Forest. Keep in mind we will be very close to the border with Crownwood."

"I realize that," the Lieutenant spoke. "But it would save us about half a day if we head south."

"What about safety?" the young lord objected. "I think it is more important to keep the prince save than to make it to make it to Hedinbourgh on time."  
Otto's eyebrow's narrowed. "With all due respect, my Lord; are you suggesting I'm not doing my job?"

"It's not my place to judge that." Heero answered tactfully.

"Easy Heero, I'm sure the Lieutenant knows what he is doing." Milliardo intervened. "Let's just try to relax and enjoy the trip, shall we."

"Very well," Heero nodded.

A short time later the group continued their journey. Although it was past harvest time, it had been unusually hot for the past weeks. By noon horses and riders were exhausted from the heat and everybody, including Heero, welcomed the shade and refreshing coolness of the forest.

The atmosphere was almost tranquilizing. A dense canopy of treetops filtered out the sunlight and draped the woods in dim light. The air was filled with the sweet smell of wildflowers and berries. The soft forest flooring muffled even the sounds of the horses' hoofs. Yet, something was amiss. Lt. Otto wasn't quite sure what it was though.  
_Oh great, I'm letting Lord Yuy's paranoia get to me_, he thought when it suddenly hit him. It was **too** quiet. Not even a single bird was singing, although the forest should be full of them. Just as Otto turned his head to warm his men all hell broke loose.  
The whining sound of arrows flying through the air mixed with the screams of wounded men. Three royal guards plunged to the ground. The others brought up their shields in an instant and surrounded the prince.  
Unable to tell how many attackers were waiting for them, the only way out was to withdraw. But before they could even turn around several riders in gray battle armor blocked their way of retreat. Determined to break through, Otto pulled his weapon and charged the soldier closest to him. Following his example, Heero ran another of the attackers through with his sword. Within moments the forest was filled with the sounds of metal hitting metal, cries of pain, and the smell of death. Lieutenant Otto slashed at anything in his way, as he pushed his horse forward, trying to create a passage for the prince to escape. As he turned his head he saw Milliardo trying to fend off two attackers, while a third man attempted to get a hold of his horse. He hurried to the prince's aid and he took out one of the soldiers. Milliardo had already taken care of the other two.   
"Stay close beside me, your Highness. We need to get you out of here," he yelled against the noise of the battle.   
Milliardo nodded silently; too shocked to speak, too shocked even to think. Treize had talked about how brutal battles could be, but he had never imagined something like this.

Suddenly the prince was pushed forward so unexpectedly that he almost fell off his mount. Something soared over his head, missing him by mere inches. There was a gurgling sound and something warm and wet hit his left side. As he jerked his head around, he watched Otto sliding off his horse. In horror he realized that the man had been struck in the throat by an arrow; the same arrow he was able to protect Milliardo from.

The prince wiped the lieutenant's blood off his face, and fought against the urge to vomit. The battle wasn't over. With a worried look he searched for Heero. He was relieved to find him and a handful of his guards fighting just a few yards to the right of him. By now Milliardo was running purely on adrenaline. He pushed his mount forward into a group of attackers, and raised his sword. With one powerful strike he decapitated one of the soldiers, then run another one through with his weapon. Just as he brought up his sword again an arrow hit his mount in the chest. The stallion reared up and collapsed, almost burying his rider beneath him. Milliardo was thrown on his back hard. The impact knocked the wind out of him and stunned him for a moment. He closed his eyes against the pain and dizziness in his head. Suddenly cold metal was pressed against his throat. As his eyes flew open in shock, he found himself staring at a black-haired man, who was unlike the other attackers dressed in dark leather.   
"Stop the fighting," the man yelled. "Lower your weapons now or he dies."   
The noise of the battle ceased immediately.  
"Get up!" The dark clad man ordered. He pulled his weapon back just enough for Milliardo to comply. At the man's gesture two of his soldiers seized the prince's arms. "The rest of you drop your weapons."  
Milliardo took long, even breaths and forced himself to calm down. He wanted nothing more than to charge the man who seemed to be the leader here. But he knew that would be certain suicide. All the prince could do was to watch the remaining royal guards discard their weapons. Heero hesitated one moment, probably trying to find some way out of this. But when the man pressed the blade of his sword harder against the prince's neck the young lord complied as well.

"Good choice," Ysard Catorce told Heero who was glaring daggers at him. 

The man took a long look around. There was not as much as a hint of emotion in his voice told his men as he ordered. "Tie up those two." He pointed at Heero and Milliardo. "Kill anybody else who is still alive."

"No!" Milliardo cried out. He suddenly exploded and tried to shake off the two soldiers restraining him. 

"Fool," Ysard spat as he raised his sword and struck the hard enough with the hilt at the side of his head to knock him unconscious.

A least that way Milliardo was spared from having to watch his loyal guards being slaughtered.  
While the soldiers finished their gruesome work, the black-haired man tied up Milliardo. Before he mounted his black stallion he threw the limp body across his packhorse. He gestured at Heero. "Make sure this one is still alive when you deliver him to my sister. And be careful." he warned. "He looks like trouble."  
"Don't worry, Lord Ysard", one of the soldiers answered with an evil grin. "He will be no trouble for us."   
"Excellent. Tell my sister that I took my "reward", and I'm delighted to have done business with her."

***

Trowa and Duo watched as a group of about 30 soldiers, clad in gray uniforms, entered the walls of Whitewater Castle.  
Duo frowned. "I don't think I have ever seen those colors before?"  
"They are the Emperor's men." Trowa explained; "his special elite troops. I've seen them before, guarding him."  
"What do they want here?" the braided boy wondered.

The prince shrugged. "They are probably just getting some rest for their horses and themselves. I wonder where they came from." Then with another gaze at the soldiers who were now dismounting in the castle's yard, he added. "Looks like they have a prisoner with them?"  
When Duo followed his eyes he saw what Trowa was talking about. His eyes narrowed in anger as we watched as one of the soldiers pulled a bound figure off one of the horses. The soldier kicked the prisoner as he fell to the ground.

"Bastards," Duo growled. He left the prince's site and walked over to the captive. When he came closer Dup realized that the prisoner was barely older than he and Trowa. He looked like he was at the end of his strength. His hands were shackled together behind his back with heavy chains. Another chain, leading from his wrists around his neck, made sure that he would strangle himself in any attempt to struggle against his restraints. The dark haired boy was sitting with his back against the stable, knees pulled against his chest and his head resting on his knees. His breathing was strained and pained. His garments were torn and bloodied. Duo could tell that he had been badly beaten.  
The braided boy felt cold anger spreading through his body. He could still how the people of his village, or those who had survived the attack, had been rounded up, beaten and chained up to be taken into slavery. He had thought; hoped, those memories would fade in time, but seeing this boy bound and beaten had brought them back clear and crisp.

Once the soldiers had taken care of their horses they left to tend to their own needs, but none of them bothered to bring their captive anything to eat or drink.  
Duo fetched a canteen of cool water and walked over to the prisoner. The boy's head jerked up and his eyes flew open when Duo touched him. He must have been sleeping or dozing. He glared angrily at the braided boy and Duo couldn't help but notice the intense color of those blue eyes. He could not remember ever seeing eyes like that before.  
"Relax," he told the boy softly. "I'm not your enemy. You've got to be thirsty."  
When Duo set the bottle against the boy's bruised lips the boy didn't resist. He threw back his head and drank in big gulps. But before he was able to fully quench his thirst, the canteen was suddenly knocked out of Duo's hand.

"What do you think you are doing?" The soldier, who had just entered the yard, glared at Duo furiously. "Stay away from him!" He shoved the braided boy hard enough against the chest to push him to the ground.  
Duo's eyes narrowed and he let out a low growl, as his hand went for his weapon. Nobody pushed him around and lived to tell about it.  
"Hold it, Duo." Trowa's stern voice stopped him. The prince turned toward the Emperor's soldier. "What is going on here? What gives you the right to attack one of servants in my castle?"

"Forgive me, your Highness," the man answered with an enraged look at Duo. "It won't happen again, as long as he stays away from the prisoner."  
Trowa's eyes narrowed as he replied. "It won't happen again, you are right about that. Because, you will be leaving immediately. You have overstayed your welcome here. Gather your men and be gone."

"You can not refuse to aid us. Have you forgotten that your uncle, the king, and Emperor Tubarov are allies?"  
"Do not make me repeat myself?" The prince asked in a dangerously low voice.

Before Trowa and Duo walked away, the braided boy took one last, long look at the soldier. He was not going to forget that face.

***

When Milliardo came slowly to, he felt uncomfortable and a little cold. He mind was still foggy. He tried to move his hands and almost panicked when he realized he couldn't. His eyes flew open in alarm and he began to assess the situation. He was lying on his side on the ground, hands and feet bound with what felt like solid leather straps. His head ached. Most of the pain seemed to be radiating from a spot behind his left ear. And suddenly he remembered.   
"I see you are awake," a voice from above said. "I was starting to worry that I hit you a little too hard."

Milliardo turned his head to look up, and felt anger flash through him, as he recognized the man towering over him. It was the same man who had been in command of the soldiers attacking them. The man who had had given orders for his men to be killed and for him and Heero to be taken prisoner.  
_Heero! _

"What did you do to my friend?" the prince asked his captor.

Ysard simply ignored him and walked back to a small fire burning several yards away.

Milliardo pulled against his restraints. He was hoping to break them somehow.  
"You are wasting your time and strength," his captor told him without even turning his head. "Those bonds are made from specially treated deerskin; they are stronger than you might think. Yet they are soft enough not to leave any ugly scars on those beautiful wrists of yours."  
The prince shot Ysard a hateful glare, as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?" he snapped.  
The man turned around and gave him a sarcastic smile. "Do you have any idea how little I care? To me you are nothing but my prisoner. The faster you get used to that fact the better for you."  
Milliardo snorted defiantly.

Ysard let his eyes wander over the figure on the ground. A thin smile curved his lips. He couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten. It was true; he cared little about who his captive was. What mattered to him was the young man's appearance. Even bruised and covered in blood and dirt he was still handsome. And the sparkle of hate in those stunning crystal-blue eyes made him only more attractive. Ysard was eager to take him right then and there and he knew it would take some self control on his part to actually wait till they got home.  
"What do you want? Ransom money?" the prince asked.  
The man laughed humorlessly. "Monetary things mean little to me. I'll show you what I want when we get home. I'm sure I will have fun."  
Milliardo felt a shiver running down his spine at the allusion.  
"I'm sure **I'll** have fun watching your execution for what you have done." He spat.

Yard's eyes narrowed slightly, as he walked over to his captive. He crouched down in front of Milliardo, put two fingers under the young man's chin and lifted it slightly. "You've got quite an attitude for somebody in your position, don't you think?"

The prince growled and spit into his face.

Ysard turned bright red and backhanded him furiously. "A little attitude might be amusing, too much will not be tolerated."   
Milliardo closed his eyes as he tried to control his raging anger. Blood was pouring from his nose and the blow had split his upper lip. _This can not be happening. This has to be some kind of nightmare I'm going to wake up from any minute now_.

Ysard raised his hand and slowly run it through Milliardo's pale blond hair. The prince jerked his head away and glared daggers at the man. "Don't dare to touch me," he hissed.  
"So much pride and defiance," the man said almost softly. "I think I'm going to have a lot of fun breaking that spirit of yours."  
Those words made the prince shudder, and for the first time he felt something besides anger and hate toward the man. He was scared.  
Ysard pulled his dagger from his belt. Milliardo swallowed hard ands tensed.  
"Relax!" his captor told him. "I made something to eat. I'm going to retie your hands in front of you so you can eat on your own. Unless you would like for me to feed you?" he added with a smirk.  
Milliardo's mind ran in overdrive as the man bend over him to cut the leather bindings around his wrists. All he could think of was that this might be his chance of escape. _If I can get my hands on that dagger…_

Milliardo waited patently till his hands were free and Ysard ordered him to put them in front of him, then he exploded. His right fist connected with his captor's chin, which was nicely positioned right in front of him. The man, obviously not expecting the attack, was thrown backward. Milliardo flung himself onto him. But the man recovered quicker than the prince had expected and fought back. The two of them struggles as Milliardo tried to pry the dagger out of Ysard's fist. The prince's tied-up legs gave him a serious disadvantage over the older man. Ysard managed to throw Milliardo onto his back. He was heavier than his opponent, and used his weight to pin his prisoner beneath him. The prince thrashed and tried to buck his captor off of him, as Ysard pulled his arms together behind his back and retied his wrists. Once Milliardo's hands were bound securely behind his back, the man got up. He towered over his prisoner, panting. His nostrils flared in rage, as he whispered dangerously low.  
"I swear I'm going to make you regret this."  
The prince closed his eyes in defeat, and preparing himself for what was to come. He was certain it was going to hurt, a lot.

  
***

Heero shifted his body to make himself somewhat more comfortable, if that was at all possible in the position he was in.

Soon after nightfall the soldiers had set up camp, and they had chained him to this tree for the night. Every once in a while one of the guards came to check on him. For what had to be the hundredth time, the brown-haired boy pulled against his restraints, though he knew very well it was useless. By now his wrists were chafed from the heavy manacles he was wearing. But concentrating on the pain stopped him from thinking too much. He didn't want to think, because it was more painful than anything else was. He had overheard the soldiers talk, and from what they said he gathered that he and he alone had been the target for the assault. And when he thought about it but blame himself for the deaths of all those people and for Milliardo's kidnapping. He had failed in the worst way possible.

Heero sighed inwardly and told himself that he needed to get some rest to preserve what little strength he had left. But sleep didn't come easy. He was cold, but he was chained to the tree so tied that he could barely even move his head.   
A noise caught his attention. It wasn't the approaching footsteps of a guard or the sounds made by the horses. He opened his eyes and listened. Suddenly a hand was pressed over his mouth.  
"Don't make a sound," a voice whispered next to his left ear. "I'll see if I can help you. But if they hear us we are both in trouble. Understood?"

Heero thought that he had heard that voice before, but he wasn't sure. He nodded once and the hand was removed. He wasn't able though to turn his head far enough to see the person behind him. He could feel his chains move as somebody tried to unlock them. Moments later there was a click and this restrains loosened. First the chain around his neck fell. Heero closed his eyes and hissed in pain when the manacles around his sore wrists opened.

He could hear the person behind him gasp. "That's gotta hurt like hell," The voice next to his ear said. "It looks like they worked you over pretty well too. Do you think you can walk on your own?"  
Heero nodded again.  
"Then take a horse and get out of here. Don't worry about the guards, I took already care of them."  
"What about you?" The young lord whispered, as the last of his restraints was removed. His rescuer didn't answer him. "Who are you…" He turned his head, only to find that he was alone. His mysterious helper had disappeared as quietly as he had come. Heero frowned, but decided that he had no time to wonder about that now. He had to escape before one of the soldiers awoke.   
The horses were tethered nearby. When Heero approached them he found one of the guards. The man was dead. He was lying on his back. The brown-haired boy grimaced when he saw how the man had died. It looked like something had literally ripped out his throat.

Heero couldn't think of any weapon that did that kind of damage. He fought down the feeling of nausea, as he stripped the soldier of his sword belt, dagger and a small leather bag of coins. He released all of the horses before he mounted his own. If nothing else, it would buy him some extra time when the soldiers had to round up their steeds before they could pursue him.

***

Milliardo woke up in pain. Every bone in his body hurt. Every breath of air he took sent a stab of pain through his chest. He wondered if he had some broken ribs. Ysard had beaten him within an inch of death after his escape attempt.  
Milliardo kept his breathing slow and shallow to ease the agony somewhat. His whole body was stiff from the cold and the uncomfortable position he was lying in. Something hard was pressing painfully against his already aching ribs. Determined not to show any weakness, the prince suppressed any signs of suffering, as he shifted slightly to remove the object of his discomfort. He almost hissed when he cut his fingertips on the sharp edge of a piece of rock or flint he was lying on.

Milliardo was barely able to suppress an excited gasp as he realized his streak of luck. When the rock's edge was sharp enough to cut his skin, perhaps it was also sharp enough to cut his bonds.  
The prince had to force himself not to try his theory right then and there. But was sure Ysard was watching him carefully. After wasting his first chance to escape he could not afford to loose another one. He had to be patient and wait for the right time to come. His captor would have to go to sleep eventually, wouldn't he?  
With those thoughts and a newfound sense of hope, Milliardo slipped the stone into the waistband of his pants, and waited. 

Ysard was sitting by the fire. Every once in a while he would raise his head and gaze into Milliardo's direction. When he realized that his prisoner was awake he rose, picked up a canteen, and walked over to him. He seized the front of Milliardo's vest and pulled the young man roughly into a sitting position.

The prince let out a small cry at the pain stabbing through his chest. He hated himself for giving his captor that kind of satisfaction.  
"You got nobody but yourself to blame for that," Ysard told him unemotionally.

He unscrewed the top of the water bottle and offered it to the prince.

Milliardo turned his head away and pressed his lips together. He almost expecting another blow for this new act of defiance, but it never came.

Instead his captor shrugged and turned to leave. "Fine, don't drink. You will come around eventually."

"Why?" Milliardo asked as the man started to walk away. "Why did you go through all this trouble just to kidnap me?"  
Ysard turned and snorted at him sarcastically. "I hope this won't hurt your royal ego too much, but it wasn't about you at all. You were merely at the wrong place at the wrong time; not that I'm complaining though."

"Then what was is about?" Milliardo wanted to know.  
"Somebody hired me to capture your young friend; that boy named Heero Yuy."  
"Who?"  
"That, my dear Prince, is none of your concern."

Milliardo glared at his captor. The man was standing just inches away from the prince. He reached out to gently caress a dark bruise in Milliardo's face. The younger man clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, but didn't flinch away from the touch.

"I can't blame you for hating me right now," Ysard spoke almost softly. "But perhaps your attitude will change when we had more time to get to know each other. I'm not as much of a monster as you might think. In time you will realize that. As long as you obey me you will have no reason to complain."  
Milliardo snorted. "Never!"  
"Never is a very long time," Ysard replied calmly. "Now get some sleep, we will rise early."

***

When Duo climbed back into his room he found Trowa sitting by the fireplace, reading a book.  
"Where have you been?" his friend asked.  
He shrugged. "I had to take care of something." 

Trowa nodded knowingly. "Were you successful?"   
The braided boy made an amused sound, as he started to take off his bloodied clothes. "Does the sun come up in the morning?"  
Trowa said. "Did anybody see you?"  
Duo snorted. He felt almost offended by that question. "Of course not. Not in human form anyway."   
"You freed him didn't you?" It was more a statement than a question.  
Duo looked at the prince in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess," Trowa shrugged. "Something about the way you reacted in the courtyard. It wasn't just because that soldier put his hands on you, was it?"

"I guess it was the way they treated him. Nobody deserves to be treated that way. Besides…" Duo added with a cheerful smirk "He has the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen."

***

After several hours, when Heero reached a small mountain stream he was convinced that he was safe from any pursuer. He stopped his horse and dismounted.

The water was cold and crystal clear. Heero kneeled down by the stream and scooped up the refreshing liquid with both hands. Thirsty as he was; he drunk too fast and too much. His stomach rebelled almost immediately. He vomited bile and water, for lack of anything else in his system, until the convulsions in his belly stopped. On shaky knees he made his way back to the water, rinsed out his mouth and splashed some of the cold water in his face. He allowed himself to collapse at the water's edge and rest for a while, before he started to tent to his wounds. After examining the scrapes on his wrists he determined that they were only superficial wounds. He winced as he took off his leather vest. The front of his finely spun tunic was stained with blood from a sword-wound he had sustained during the battle. He slipped the shirt over his head and started cleaning the injury with water. From what he could tell, once the blood was washed away, the gash was long, and deep. It crossed almost his entire chest, but even though it burned like hell, it was nothing he couldn't survive. Using strips ripped from his shirt as makeshift bandages, he dressed the wound, then put on his clothes again.

Heero took another drink of water and this time e managed to keep it down.  
Even though his body screamed for rest, he forced himself to mount his horse and ride on. _Later_, he told himself, _I can get all the rest I need_.

But first there were more important things to take care of. The king needed to know what had happened. If Milliardo was still alive time could be of importance.

***

Milliardo found that sitting up was more bearable than lying down. He was leaning with his back against a large rock, and pretended to be asleep. With his head dipped down, and his chin resting on his chest, he watched his captor though pale blond bangs.

After what seemed forever Ysard finally settled down by the fire once again. Milliardo was sure that the man could definitely not see what the prince was doing behind his back, from where he was sitting.   
He pulled out the small rock and, without taken his eyes off Ysard, started cutting at his bonds. It was an exhausting task, and more than once he slipped and cut his own wrists instead of the leather straps. At one point the stone slipped from his hand and had a hard time finding it again. He could feel blood run down his wrists and he prayed that his injuries were only superficial. Otherwise he could be very dead, very fast. _But then_, Milliardo thought with a tinge of bitterness, _maybe a quick and painless death is better than anything he has planned for me?_

Suddenly Ysard rose again, stretched and stepped away from the fire. Milliardo froze. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow and even breaths. His heart was beating wildly, as he heard the man's footsteps approaching.   
"Wake up!" his captor nudged his shoulder.

Milliardo opened his eyes slowly and pretended to wake up.  
"I'm tired. I'm going to tie you to a tree. I think I'll sleep easier knowing you can't go anywhere." Ysard announced. "Somehow I don't trust you." Ysard grabbed the younger man by the arm and pulled him to his feet. His face turned red in fury when his eyes fell onto Milliardo's wrists. "And that's the reason why!" he growled angrily and struck the prince hard across the face. Milliardo head snapped back and hit the rock behind him with a sickening thud. 

His legs collapsed beneath him, as his mind plunged into the welcome darkness of unconsciousness.

***

It took Heero nearly two days to reach the Royal Palace. He had only stopped a few times to allow his horse to rest. When they finally arrived at the castle, both horse and were utterly exhausted.  
King Stephan was sitting in his study, discussing Princess Relena's upcoming trip to Oakwood with Captain Treize, when one of the guards informed him of the Lord Yuy's arrival. He reported that the young lord had entered the castle alone and in great hurry.   
Before the king even could ask any questions, Heero stormed into the room. He looked like he was about to collapse any moment. Treize jumped up from his chair to brace the young man, as the king yelled for somebody to get the healer.  
"Heero, what happened? Where is Milliardo?" Stephán asked concerned.   
Heero's gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry, Sire. Please forgive me, for I have failed you."  
"Sit down, and tell me what happened?" the king demanded.  
Grateful for Treize's supporting arm, the boy allowed himself to be led to a chair. In a voice far thinner than he had liked, he told the two men everything that had occurred.

By the time he was finished the king had turned pale. It seemed like one of his worst nightmares had become true.  
King Stephán looked up at Treize. "Captain, I want any soldier we can spare to be sent out to search for my son."

The captain gave a confirming nod. "I'll have the soldiers ready to leave before nightfall. Please, allow me to lead them, your Highness!"  
The king nodded. He knew that Treize was probably hit hard by Lieutenant Otto's death. "Just be careful, Captain," he urged.

As the captain saluted and left the study the king put his hand on Heero's shoulder.   
"Heero, listen to me. Do not blame yourself for this. It was not your fault."  
The young lord looked up to his foster father, sadness in his eyes. "But it was, Sire. I do not deserve your compassion."  
The king frowned and gave the boy a stern look. "Don't you ever talk that way, do you understand me? Nobody is to blame for this but the people who attacked you. And when Milliardo gets back home he will most certainly tell you the same." 

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's notes:

For some reason the review system on ff.net isn't working properly. None the reviews posted for the latest chapters are showing up on the review page.   
I would appreciate it if you could send, for the time being, your reviews directly to me via e-mail, or read and review my stories on my website www.gundam-wing-fanfiction.net. If you go there you will, as a little bonus, also be able to read the unedited version of this story. Thank you.

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	10. Destiny Beckons

Part 8 – Destiny Beckons

Quatre run his fingers through his blond hair, to tame the wild locks somewhat, as he joined the other slaves and servants who had lined up in the inner ward.

The other day Duke Dermail had ordered that all slaves in the castle received a whole set of new clothes. Quatre had been somewhat surprised, because this usually only happened for special occasions. But then he had learned that the king himself was passing through on his way to Ravenhearst. Mary, a kitchen maid who always found a way to sneak some food to the stable slaves, had heard the Duke talk about it, when he came down to the kitchen to instruct the staff on what he expected to be served at the feast. A royal visit was indeed as a very special occasion.               

Quatre raised his head as the fanfares announced the king's arrival. When the large caravan of men and horses passed through the inner gate the blond boy could make out Princess Relena on her white mare. The young heiress had visited Oakwood Castle a few times in the past. Quatre had found her to be very kind, friendly and caring. To Relena's left rode her father, the king. He was a man in his mid 40th with the demeanor of somebody very much in control of everything around him. The boy with the unruly brown hair on the princess's right had to be Lord Yuy, the king's ward and perhaps even the future ruler of the Sanc Kingdom. Behind them rode a tall man in the white and blue uniform of the royal guard and another boy that caught Quatre's attention. His skin had a golden tan to it and his black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His facial features clearly identified him as somebody of eastern origin. As the procession came closer Quatre went down on one knee and kept his gaze respectfully on the ground. Behind him he could hear quiet whispers from some of the maids.  
"He's got to be the king's wizard. You think they all are as good looking where he comes from?"  
"I wonder if he is a powerful as they say?"  
"Why did the king bring him? Does he think he needs this kind of protection here?"  
"I'm sure after what happened to Prince Milliardo, he would be a fool not to be careful."  
_ A Wizard?_ Quatre thought. _But he looks barely older than I am._

Wen he carefully lifted his head, to sneak another look at the dark-haired youth, he was surprised to find the other boy's eyes trained on him. Quickly he converted his gaze back toward the ground.  
When the king and his men stopped inside the courtyard Quatre quickly was at their side to take care of the horses. Lord Yuy dismounted first, then he went on to aid the young princess. Relena gave him grateful smile.  
"I'm exhausted, Heero," she sighed. "I would have never thought that two days in the saddle could be this tough."  
"Hn." The brown-haired boy grunted. "Your father and I both told you that it would be easier for you to travel by carriage as usually."  
Her smile turned a little sheepish. "That you did," she agreed. "I suppose I was too foolish to listen."  
"Perhaps not foolish, just stubborn," her father remarked with a smirk. "Stubbornness has always been a trademark of the Peacecraft family."  
The conversation ended when Duke Dermail and his niece approached to greet their guests.  
"Your Highness," The duke bowed deeply. "You honor me with your present in my humble home."  
The king nodded curtly. "We thank you for your hospitality."  
Princess Relena smiled courteously, while Lord Yuy just stood there, his face an unreadable mask. But when Quatre was about to lead away the lord's mount, their hands touched unintentionally when he reached for the reins. For a moment a feeling of aversion and distrust directed against the Duke overwhelmed the young slave. Lord Yuy was obviously not an admirer of Dermail, and somehow Quatre found that very interesting. He lead away the white stallion, unaware that Heero's gaze was following him.  
"I suppose that you want to fresh up and rest after your long trip." The duke continued. "Let me show you to the quarters that I've had prepared for you."

***

King Stephán felt exhausted, emotionally as well as physically, but not from the long trip. It had been Relena who had talked him into going on this journey. This was the first time that he and his daughter had left the Royal Palace since that fateful day, more than three months ago, when Milliardo had disappeared. Although the search for the prince had been in vain, the king found it still hard to accept that his son was dead. But he also knew he couldn't afford to loose himself in sorrow. As difficult as it seemed at times, life had to go on and decisions had to be made; decisions that impacted not only him and his family but also the entire kingdom. From the day Milliardo was born he had been groomed to become the future ruler of the Sanc Kingdom. But with him gone and Relena the only heir, the throne and all power that came with it would go to her future husband. This of course meant that Relena had to marry a man worthy and fit to be king. The most rational choice seemed to be Heero Yuy. He wasn't a Peacecraft by blood but yet considered part of the family. He was also well liked by the people, who considered him one of them, since he had been born a commoner. Heero had the spirit of a warrior while Relena had always shown to be a great diplomat. Together they should be able to rule the kingdom.  
The king had spoken to Relena and Heero about the arrangement. He knew that they both understood that this wasn't something he chose to do, but something he had to do. The Peacecraft family had always been willing to make sacrifices, even personal sacrifices for the future of the kingdom. Yet he couldn't help but feel guilty. An arrange marriage wasn't what he had planned for either of them, but than it wasn't exactly like things were going as they had been planned.  
Before they had left for their trip to Ravenhearst, the king had officially announced the upcoming betrothal of Princess Relena to Lord Yuy. A feast fitting for the event was planned for late spring.  
A knock at the door ripped the king from his thoughts.   
"Come in."  
Treize stepped into the room. "Your Highness, Wufei finished putting up protection spells for all the royal quarters."  
"Thanks you, Treize. Tell him I'm pleased, as always."  
"Umm…"  
"Yes, Captain? Is there anything else?" the king gave him a questioning look.  
"I was just wondering if you will be needing Wufei's or my services this afternoon?"

The king thought about it for a moment then shook his head. "I don't think I will. Relena is socializing with Dorothy, and Heero was with them last time I saw them. I'll probably be resting for a while. So if you are planning on taking some time to yourselves, by all means do so. God knows you deserve it."  
Treize gave a quick nod. "Thank you, your Highness." 

***

After freshening up and changing from her travel outfit into a silk-laced dress, Relena had met with Dorothy in the library. Heero was sitting silently over a chessboard, while the girls talked. After a long while the princess turned toward him.   
"Heero, Dorothy and I will take a walk in the garden. It is just too beautiful of a day to see sit inside."  
The young lord just nodded, rose from his chair and followed them without a word. Looking at him from over her shoulder, Dorothy put on a scoffing smile.  
"You trained him well, Princess Relena. Does he fetch and sit on command too?" And then directed at Heero she continued. "I assure you, my Lord, that my uncle's guards are more than qualified to provide efficient security for Princess Relena."  
Heero gave her a cold glare, but before he could say anything Relena spoke up.  
"I think Dorothy is just trying to say that we would like to spend some time alone. We will be only in the garden, so there is no reason for you to worry about my safety."  
"Very well," Heero answered. "I wanted to go check on my mount anyway. It seemed like he was starting to limp when he got here. You will find me at the stable when you need me."

"Ask for Quatre," Dorothy suggested. "He knows more about horses than anybody you will ever find. He will be able to help you."

"Princess, my Lady." He nodded curtly before he left.

"You;ve got to forgive, him." Relena told the other girl. "Ever since Milliardo's …disappearance, Heero is a little overly protective of me."   
The two girls walked out into the garden. Once they were out of earshot of any servants or guards Dorothy said:  
"So, your father really is going to make you marry Lord Yuy, isn't he?"  
Relena shrugged. "It is for the best."  
"The best for who?"  
"The best for the kingdom." The princess replied. "Besides, it could be much worst, you know."  
"Yeah, I suppose you could be forced to wed somebody who actually is human." Dorothy scoffed.  
Relena's eyes narrowed as she turned toward her friend. "Please don't talk like this. If you ever would take the time to get to know Heero, you would realize that he is actually very caring. Just because he doesn't show his emotions as much as other people doesn't mean he doesn't have any."  
"By the way you defend him one could almost think you really are in love with him." Dorothy almost smirked, but Relena didn't make any reply. After a while they settled down on a bench.  
"I'm surprised that your father has not taken any actions against the Romefeller Empire after what happened." Dorothy said.  
"There is not even real proof that Tubarov was behind the attack on Milliardo." Relena answered.  
The other girl snorted. "Princess Relena, are you too naïve or too blind to see that only the Emperor had a reason to kill your brother. The Sanc Kingdom and the Welshyre Kingdom are the only remaining threats to the Romefeller Empire."  
"We have never been a threat to anybody. Sanc has not attacked another land for more than 300 years."  
"Maybe there has never been an enemy as powerful and dangerous as Tubarov in the last 300 years." Dorothy retorted. "Your father should attack him before he becomes even more powerful."  
"Leading the country into a full-blown war with the Romefeller Empire will only end costing hundreds if not thousands of lives. Not one person, not even my brother, is worth that kind of sacrifice. – Now, please let's not talk about this any further."

"As you wish, Princess Relena."  
For a while they sat just quietly, then Dorothy turned her face toward the princess. Slowly she raised her hand, twisting a lock of Relena's long blond hair around a finger.  
"You did something to your hair, didn't you? It looks different."  
Relena smiled ever so slightly. "You noticed."  
"I like it."  
"I hoped you would." Relena almost blushed.

***

Heero walked toward the stables and stopped one of the boys working there. "I'm looking for somebody called Quatre. Can you tell me where to find him?"  
Before he got an answer from the stable hand, another boy, about Heero's age, with golden blond hair turned toward him. Heero remembered noticing the boy earlier in the yard.  
"I'm Quatre. How may I help you, my Lord?"  
"It's about my mount." Heero explained. "He seemed to have injured himself on the trip here."  
The blond boy nodded. "I've noticed that, my Lord. I checked it out and it seems to be a relatively minor wound. He probably cut himself on a sharp rock or a thorny bush."  
"I'm surprised he let you touch him. He usually doesn't like strangers."  
Quatre's lips curled into a wry grin. "Yes, I've noticed that he has a bit of a temper."  
One of the other stable boys gave an amused sound. "A bit of a temper? He sent you flying half way through the stable, Quatre."  
Heero looked at the blond boy. "He kicked you? You weren't hurt, I hope." Although there was concern in the young lord's voice, neither his facial expression nor his eyes showed any indication of it.  
Quatre's grin grew sheepish. "Only in my pride, my Lord."  
Heero seemed satisfied with that answer. "So you think the injury is not serious?" he asked the other boy.  
Quatre shook his head. "If the wound is kept clean it should heal up within a few days. I also mixed up a little ointment." He picked up a wooden bowl with a brownish, paste-like substance.  
"What is it?" Heero asked curiously.  
"It's mixture of ground up roots and herbs. It will prevent an infection. I'll clean the wound then cover it with the paste…once I can convince your Stallion to cooperate."  
 "It might be easier if I assist you." Heero said.  
"Are you sure, my Lord?" The stable boy, surprise in his emerald blue eyes, asked. "You might get yourself dirty."  
There was a hint of an amused smile on the young lord's face. "And that would be a problem, why? I suppose you do have water around here?"  
Quatre returned the smile. He felt suddenly much more at ease. He led the way, and Heero followed him to the stable where his mount and the rest of the royal horses were kept. To Quatre's relieve the white stallion was a lot calmer with his owner around.   
Heero hold up on the stallion's left hind leg. He watched the other boy intensively, as he cleaned the wound, then coated it generously with the root paste.  
"Lady Dorothy mentioned that you are the best stable hand around. How long have you been working with horses?" Heero asked.  
"I was eight summers old when I was sold to his Lordship the Duke," the blond boy answered. "I suppose I was lucky to be put to work in the stables."  
"The Duke treats you well?" Heero had no idea why he was asking a question like that. He wasn't sure why he cared. He didn't even know the boy.  
"As well as a slave can expect to be treated, I suppose." Quatre answered evasively. He finished his work by bandaging the stallion's leg. "There are some buckets of water where you can clean up, my Lord." Quatre gestured to the back of the stable. "I'll go and get you something to dry off with."

Heero nodded and walked to the back. He crouched down next to the water bucket, as he washed his hands. A moment later he could hear Quatre talk to somebody; a man as he could tell from the voice. Heero didn't pay any attention to their conversation until there was the unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and then a thump. Heero rose to see Quatre on the ground, a tall man towering over him, ready to strike the boy again.  
His eyes narrowed in anger. "What's the meaning of this?"   
The man turned toward him. "Nothing you should concern yourself with, Lord Yuy. I'm only teaching this contumacious slave a lesson."   
"With your fist?" Heero growled angrily.  
"Believe me, it's the only language this whelp understands."  
"I beg to differ. I'll not stand by and let you harm an unarmed boy."  
"He deserves a good beating. He told him to groom and saddle my mount. Instead he has been loafing around again."  
"I assure you, that Quatre was not **loafing around**. He was helping me taking care of my horse." Heero explained, as he put himself between the man and the boy. "I suggest you leave him be."  
The man growled something inaudible, gave Quatre an angry look and left. Heero reached out to offer the boy assistance. Quatre took the hand, blinking in surprise. He wasn't used to people helping him. 

"Thank you, my Lord."  
"Who was that man?" Heero asked.  
"Sir Alex, Duke Dermail's 1st Knight."  
"A knight?" the young lord snorted in disgust. His eyes narrowed. Then he focused on an already darkening bruise in the other boy's face. "He hit you hard. You should have somebody look at that bruise."

Quatre almost laughed at that comment. _Does he really think the healer will waste her time on a slave?_ But he nodded anyway, knowing better than to argue. "Yes, my Lord."  
"I believe the Duke should hear about this."  
"It would do no good." Quatre answered, a sad tinge in his voice.  
"If you're afraid he will not believe you I'll gladly speak for you." Heero offered, but the other boy just shook his head.  
"That's very kind of you, but it is best left alone, my Lord. You should not concern yourself."  
"As you wish." Heero nodded. He told the other boy that he would be back later to check up on his stallion, then walked out of the stable, leaving behind a baffled Quatre. 

The brown-haired boy confused Quatre. He didn't know what to make of him. On the outside Heero seemed cold and uncaring, but his actions told otherwise. Quatre knew that many people envied the young lord for his life appeared to be a dream come true. He was born a peasant, raised amongst royalty, destined to marry a princess and most likely to become king some day. Could one wish for more? He should be very happy, shouldn't he? Yet as they touched earlier, when Heero helped him to his feet, Quatre had felt little happiness within the other boy. 

Quatre couldn't know that Heero was just as confused about him. To his own surprise he had taken an instant liking to the boy. Strangely enough he felt the same kind of connection to him that he had felt toward Wufei, when they had met for the first time. And then there was something else. Every time the other boy touched him he felt so utterly exposed, as if the blond was able to look straight into his soul. He didn't like it. He didn't want anybody breaking through the wall he was hiding his emotions behind. He decided to talk to Wufei about it but learned that the Wizard and Treize had left the castle.

***

Wufei had given Treize a look that indicated he seriously doubted his master's sanity when the man suggested a ride through the country site. After spending the past two days on horseback, why would anybody in his right mind want to go on a ride just for fun? Besides, he had been planning on a long meditation session, something he had not found time for in a while. But in the end both of them had compromised and agreed on a walk.   
Just east of Oakwood Castle was a small lake where they had stopped to take a rest. The afternoon sun made the water surface sparkle like diamonds. The air was impregnated with the sweet smell of spring flowers and sounds of birds. Treize had taken off his uniform top and was lying on his back in the grass, eyes closed, soaking up the warmth of the sun's rays. He could hear Wufei next to him stir and then a shadow cast over him. Lazily the captain opened one eye to see the young wizard propped up on one elbow watching him.  
"I thought you were going to meditate," he said.  
"I just thought of something better," Wufei answered, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Leaning forward he captured the captain's lips in a passionate kiss. Treize brought his arms up, embracing the boy tenderly, as he returned the kiss. He closed his eyes and moaned softly at his lover's sweet taste. His lips parted, allowing Wufei's tongue to enter his mouth. When they finally broke their kiss both of them panted breathlessly.

"I like your way of thinking," Treize whispered as be begun to nibble on Wufei's earlobe.   
The young wizard gave a low chuckle. "Somehow I knew you would." Feeling his lover's hot breath on his neck sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. Wufei moaned at the sensation, as Treize placed a trail of soft butterfly kisses down his throat.   
"So delightfully delicious," the ginger-blond man whispered. "Makes me want to find out how the rest of you tastes."  
"What is stopping you?" Wufei asked innocently, his slender fingers started to search for the drawstring on the captain's pants. He groaned frustrated when Treize gently batted those fingers away.

"I don't think this is the right place, love."

Wufei pouted. It looked so sweet and had the desired effect.

Treize sighed. "Tonight, Dear, I promise," he vowed, as he nuzzled the nap of the boy's neck. "I'll find a reason to leave the feast early."

***  
  


When Heero went back to the stables to check on his stallion, as he had said he would, he couldn't see the blond slave anywhere. Once again he asked on of the other stable hands where he could find Quatre. The boy almost winced at that question.  
"Quatre doesn't feel well. Perhaps I can help you, my Lord."  
"He seemed fine a while ago." Heero frowned, remembering that his stallion had kicked the boy earlier that day, and decided to make sure he wasn't seriously injured. "Where can I find him?"  
The boy seemed to think for a moment then sighed. "This way, my Lord."  
The slave led him into the back of the barn. For a moment Heero wondered why Quatre if he was sick wasn't in his sleeping quarter. He was about to asked the other boy about it when he noticed in the far back a number of blankets on the straw covered ground and he realized that this was where the stable slaves slept. 

Heero stepped closer, and crouched down next to the boy. Quatre was covered with torn blankets. The blond boy seemed to be unconscious, and his breathing was shallow and labored. His face was a swollen mess of scrapes and bruises. There was no question that he had been beaten. Heero was shocked, but after a moment his shock turned into fury. "Who did this?"  
The boy who had let him into the barn cringed at the angry tone of voice, but seemed reluctant to answer.  
"Tell me!" the young lord demanded.   
"Sir Alex. He was displeased about something Quatre did earlier and punished him…"  
Heero turned, stormed out of the barn and went looking for the knight. He found the man in one of the castle's halls talking to some acquaintances. Heero confronted him furiously and demanded an explanation for his action.  
"Get a hold of yourself, Lord Yuy," Alex answered exasperated. "It's not like we are talking about a person here. He is a slave. A disobedient and indolent slave, if I might add. He deserved every bit of that beating he got. That's what you do with slaves if they are disobedient, you discipline them."

"They are still human beings and deserve to be treated that way," Heero growled. "Disciplining them is one thing, beating them close to death another. How can you find pleasure in hurting somebody that can't defend himself, and still call yourself a knight? You are disgrace to the very essence of knighthood."  
Alex's face turned crimson red at the insult. "Unlike others here, at least I come from a long line of knights and nobility, **Lord** Yuy," the man spit.

Heero grunted and retorted. "Yet, your family seemed to have failed to teach you proper manners and the code of honor."

"I'm not going to take this kind of insults from you. You will apologize or I'll teach you a lesson in swordplay that you will not like."  
"Apologize for speaking the truth?" Heero snorted. "I think not. If you want to fight me, so be it. We will see who will be teaching whom a lesson. "  
"You are very confident of yourself, Lord Yuy, aren't you?" Alex growled, as he unsheathed his sword and thrust forward. Heero brought up his own weapon in defense. The other people in the hall scrambled to get out of the way of the fight. The older man thrust forward again aiming high and again his strike was blocked. Heero retreated as his opponent attacked again and again, and the man grinned viciously. "Maybe you are a little too confident."  
The young lord snorted and jumped over the blade as the next strike was aimed for his legs. At the same time he brought up his own sword, striking from above. Alex, unable to get his weapon up fast enough, could only jump back. The next attack caught him still off balance. Their weapons locked. Heero managed to trap his opponent sword and at a twist of his wrist the man lost his grip on the weapon. The sword hit the ground, and Alex's eyes widened as the blade Heero's sword was pressed against his throat. The young lord glared at him for a moment then pulled back his weapon tossing it aside.   
"Let's see how good you are with your fists against somebody who actually knows how to defend himself."  
  


***  
  


Treize and Wufei had just returned to Oakwood Castle when they learned that Lord Yuy was dueling with one of Duke Dermail's knights. But by the time the captain stormed into the hall the men were locked in a fistfight instead of a sword duel. A small crowd of people had gathered around them.   
_What has gotten into Heero,_ Treize wondered? _I have never seen him like this. It's just not like him to loose his temper._  
Treize knew the king well enough to know that he was not going to be happy about this incident. The captain stepped in to break up the fight.  
"Lord Yuy, stop this foolishness at once," he demanded sternly. "Heero, listen to me…now…"   
Treize was determined to get a hold of the boy and restrain him, if necessary by force. But suddenly an elbow connected with his chin. The impact was powerful enough to make him see stars. He stumbled a few steps backward before bumping into something semi-soft, which turned out to be Wufei's body.  
"Are you hurt?" the black-haired boy asked. The fact that someone, no matter who, dared to strike his master/lover didn't settle very well with the young wizard.  
Treize rubbed his sore jaw and shook his head. "I'm fine," he assured Wufei. "Help me stop these two, would you?"  
"**That** will be my pleasure," Wufei answered.  
The trace of anger present in the wizard's voice concerned Treize somewhat, but before he could stop him, the boy's obsidian eyes turned even darker. The captain had come to recognize this as a sign that he was summoning his powers to perform a spell.

"Easy, Wufei," he warned, but it was already too late.

With one swift motion of his right hand Wufei hurled a bolt of sparkling blue energy toward the two men fighting. 

Heero paid little attention to Treize when the captain tried to stop him. He was too concentrated on the fight and his opponent to notice anything around him, including Wufei. He didn't even see the crackling wave of energy the wizard discharged until he was struck. A collective gasp went through the hall as both Heero and Alex were thrown back by the impact. Another charge, even more powerful than the first, followed almost instantly. Heero was struck in the chest. The result was "stunning", literally. It was like a bolt of lightning hit his nervous system. Instantly his muscles went limb, but he didn't even feel any pain when he hit the floor. He felt like somebody had turned off his entire body, leaving only his brain to work. He tried to move his arms and legs but found that he couldn't. His muscles didn't obey him and neither did his voice. He almost wished that he would loose consciousness. Being awake but unable to do anything with his own body was the worst feeling he had ever experienced.

For a long moment there was absolute silence in the hall. Everybody's eyes were fixed on Wufei. Treize let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, as he glanced at the two prone figures on the ground with concern. Then he turned toward the wizard. "What did you do to them?"   
"There is no reason to worry," Wufei answered calmly. "I did not harm them. They are just unable to move for a while."  
"For how long?"  
Wufei shrugged. "The spell should wear off before nightfall or the moment I reverse it."  
"Reverse it now." Treize commanded.  
The young wizard frowned. It was obvious that he did not agree with the captain, but he nodded anyway.

"As you wish."

***

Heero was still feeling the aftermath of the wizard's spell in his sore muscles, when King Stephán asked to see him. Somehow he wasn't surprised to find Treize and Wufei in the king's chambers as well. All three of them listened silently as the young lord apologized for his actions, and explained to them what had led to the fight between him and Sir Alex.  
"Makes me almost wish we hadn't interfered or at least given that arrogant bastard what he deserves." Wufei growled, once Heero was finished, and earned himself a disapproving glare from the king.   
There was a noticeable trace of displeasure in his voice, when Stephán addresses Heero.  
"Although, I do understand your anger ands motivation to confront Sir Alex, I can not condone your action, Heero. I'm somewhat disappointed, because I would have thought you more intelligent than that. I wish you would have simple brought the matter to my attention and let me deal with it."  
"My apologies Sire. I stand corrected," the young lord answered quietly.  
The king sighed. "What's done is done. But Heero, I do expect you to keep away from Sir Alex for the rest of our stay here. Let me take care of the situation."  
"Yes, your Highness."  
"Then go and get changed. Let's try not to insult our host any further by being late for the feast, shall we?" the king ordered with a dismissive motion.

***

Quatre woke up feeling warm and comfortable. The surface beneath him was unusually soft and the smell was different from what he was used to. It didn't smell like horses and straw, but rather fresh and clean. The blanket he was covered with was thick and soft. It felt almost like he was lying in a real bed. But that was impossible. Gods, he couldn't even recall the last time he slept in a real bed.   
The last thing he remembered was another one of Sir Alex's angry outbursts and the beating he had received. He must have lost consciousness because he couldn't recall what happened when the beating stopped.  
_Or maybe I died and this is heaven? Am I dead?_ Quatre stirred and moaned as he felt pain in his rips and jaw. Not as much as was to expect after the blows he had received, but it still hurt. _No, I don't think I'm dead. Maybe this is a dream. _He sighed, buried his head deeper in the soft pillow and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.   
"Are you awake?" a voice asked. 

The sudden question startled Quatre. Somehow he had assumed that he was alone. Curiously he opened first one eye, then both, unable to see much in the dark. He sat up, his hands roaming over the soft surface he was lying on; shocked to discover that indeed it was a bed, a very large, very comfortable and very clean bed, in a dark and unfamiliar room.   
"So, you **are** awake," the same voice said. "How are you feeling?"  
Suddenly the room was brightened by the light of a dozen or so candles flickering to life at once.  
Quatre let out a surprised gasp, his head jerked around to where the voice had come from. Across the room he could see a boy… young man… sitting in a chair. 

_So, it's true what they say. He really is a wizard._

"Are you alright?" the black-haired youth asked.

Quatre blinked, finally overcame his shock, and nodded. "I…I'm sorry, Sir. I'm fine, thank you. I don't seem to recall how I got here though, or even where **here** is."  
"That's not surprising, considering you were unconscious when you got here," the wizard answered.

"May I asked where I am, my Lord?" the blond boy asked timidly.  
"In my quarters," the other boy explained. "Do not fear. You are save here; Quatre…the name is Quatre isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes, my Lord."  
The wizard smirked. "My Lord! I like the sound of that. – However, I am not deserving of that title, Quatre. I'm no Lord, or noble; just a slave like you."  
Quatre's eyes grew wide. "A Slave? But aren't you a wizard?"  
 "One doesn't exclude the other." There was a trace of bitterness in the wizard's voice. "By the way, my name is Wufei. His Highness wanted to make sure you are well enough to travel, so I did a healing spell on you…"  
"…travel where?" Quatre interrupted surprised.  
"Right," Wufei said, lifting a hand to scratch his head. "Nobody has told you yet."  
"Told me what?" the blond boy asked fearfully.  
"His Majesty the King purchased you. You will be leaving with us tomorrow."  
Quatre's jaw dropped, and once he was able to speak again he murmured. "But…How can it be? So many other nobles tried to buy me and the Duke always declined. He said he would never sell me." Though he had a hard time believing what he was told, there was a dim spark of hope within him, hope that the young wizard spoke the truth and he was going to leave this place.  
Wufei snorted sarcastically. "Do you think the king is a man who takes no for an answer."   
"No, I suppose he wouldn't." The blond smiled a little as the spark of hope grew. He laid back into the pillows, enjoying the softness and fresh smell.  
"You had some very nasty bruises and cuts. Healing spells are not my strength. I'm sure you can do better healing yourself."  
Quatre's face grew pale. "How did you know…?" he asked; his voice barely above a whisper. He never had anybody told about his abilities. He had never even dared to heal himself in the past out of fear somebody would discover his powers. Now that somebody knew, what would happen?  
"I'm a wizard, remember," Wufei reminded him. "I can sense magic in others. I can tell most of your power comes from your mind, but you also can work with the basic elements, the very basic ones. You have never been trained to use those powers, have you?"  
Quatre shook his head. "Only for a very short time as a child. I discovered most of what I can do quite by accident."

Wufei nodded as if that confirmed what he had thought. 

There was a quiet knock, then the door opened and a tall, slender man in royal guard uniform walked in.

"Treize, what are you doing here?" Wufei asked.  
"Checking up on my favorite slave," the man replied softly as he the distance between the door and Wufei in two large steps. He embraced the boy and kissed him. Wufei didn't return the kiss, but instead freed himself from Treize's arms and took a step back.

"The boy…Quatre…he woke up."

"Oh," the captain exclaimed, as he straightened up. He tucked on his uniform in a gesture of slight embarrassment, before directing his gaze toward the bed. 

Quatre lowered his eyes and blushed, as he felt like he had been intruding on what was meant to be a private moment.

"Quatre," Wufei interrupted the silence. "This is Captain Treize, chief of his Majesty's personal security, and my…um…Master."  
The man nodded curtly in his direction and Quatre stammered a polite: "I'm pleased to meet you, Sir."  
"How was the feast?" the wizard asked.  
"Boring as usually," Treize sighed. "I think the most entertaining part was watching Heero and Sir Alex glare daggers at each other from opposite sides of the table. I believe some people might even have placed bets on how long it might take till the two jumped on each others throats again."  
"At least there was food, I suppose?"   
The captain raised one eyebrow. "You didn't have supper yet? Oh, how thoughtless of me. I should have make sure of that earlier."  
"Don't worry about it. Just see if you can get us something. I'm sure Quatre is hungry too."  
Treize nodded. "I'll be back shortly."  
Once the door closed behind him a soft chuckling noise came from Quatre's direction. Wufei gave the other boy a surprised look.

"Let me see if I understand this right. He is your master? You are his slave? And you just send him to fetch us supper?" More to himself Quatre continued. "Maybe I **did **die and go to heaven."  
  


***

"For god sake, why couldn't you keep your temper under control for as long as the king is around?" Duke Dermail chided his 1st knight.   
"I don't have a temper," Alex replied. "Besides, since when has the king become concerned with what his nobles do with their private property? And it should definitely not be of any concern to that peasant whelp. Who does this little bastard think he is anyway? Somebody should put him in his place."  
"Careful with your choice of words, Alex," Dermail warned smoothly. "This little **peasant whelp** might be our future ruler and he could make you eat those words."

"Don't remind me," the other man growled. "Maybe somebody needs to make sure that he doesn't become king. If you asked me, some change is needed in the kingdom. With a strong ruler and a good army Sanc could become as strong, if not even stronger than the Romefeller Empire."  
"This is not the time, Alex. If we are patient and a little lucky somebody else might take care of our problem for us."  
"Is that so?" the knight gave the older man a questioning look.  
"Word has it that whoever killed the crown prince was also after Lord Yuy," the Duke answered.  
"You think they'll try again?"  
"We can hope, can't we?"

Alex ginned evilly. "And I suppose if hoping alone doesn't work we can always help out a little."  
  


***

Treize watched, as Quatre's eyes became big as dinner plates at the sight of the Royal Palace ahead of them. He laughed softly, still remembering the same expression of awe on Wufei's face when he had seen the white castle for the first time. "It's quite magnificent, isn't it?"  
The blond youth nodded and gave the captain a shy smile.   
Not much later they rode into the castle yard. Quatre was glad that the trip was over. After leaving Oakwood they had traveled to Ravenhearst where the king had some state affairs to tend to. They had stayed there for a period of four days. Then they had headed back to the Royal Palace. Not used to travel such long distances on horseback, Quatre felt sore and stiff. The mount he had been riding had been rather large and his legs ached from spanning the steed's broad back. 

For a while the youth just stood there, feeling kind of awkward, since everybody but him seemed to know what they were doing and where they were going. Suddenly Treize put his hand on his shoulder and directed him toward one of the large stables. "Let's find Orin. He can show you around and get you settled in."  
Orin turned out to be a gray-haired man in his early 50th and he was, as Quatre later learned, the royal stable master.  
"Orin, this is Quatre. He just got here. His Highness though you can use some help with the court horses." Treize introduced him.  
"Oh, he did, didn't he? I have only been asking for help for the last two years or so," the old man grumbled.  
"You just didn't complain loud enough," the captain laughed.   
Orin turned to the boy and looked him over critically. "You know anything about horses, boy?" he asked surly.  
"I sure do, Sir." Quatre sounded almost offended. "I have been working with horses all my life."  
"All your life, huh?" the old man said. "Must have been an awful long time considering how old you are." He started to walk away, stopped after a few steps and turned to Quatre. "Are you going to come, or are you just going to stand there."  
The blond boy looked up at Treize, but the captain just laughed, and gave him a reassuring pat on the back.  
"Don't worry Quatre. He only growls, he never bites."   
"I've heard that, Captain." Orin snarled. "Now get out of my stable and let us do our work."  
With a last encouraging smile in Quatre's direction Treize left. The boy sighed as he followed the old man.

Orin told him that the troop stables were on the other side of the palace. The soldiers were taking care of their own horses. The mounts for the royal guards were housed separately and they had their own stable hands. And then of course there were the royal stables. Quatre noticed that all of the court horses were white. Well, not all of them were totally white yet, since most white horses are born with a dark gray or brownish coat and only turned white as they matured. Each of them had their own tracks and trappings. Quatre couldn't help but smile to himself, wondering if a royal mount would find it offending to wear gear that was previously used by another horse. As he followed the old man around he soon realizing that Treize had been right. Behind Orin's grumbling and grumpy attitude the boy could feel a caring and friendly soul. After they had toured the entire stable the old man showed the boy his sleeping quarter, which he was sharing with three other stable boys. Then he took Quatre to the kitchen and introduced him to his wife Molly, who happened also to be the head cook. The corpulent woman with dark brown hair and warm green eyes took one look at the boy then shock her head in dismay. "Look at you, you poor thing. Didn't they feed you anything where you came from?"

She ushered Quatre across the room to a long table and pushed him gentle down into a chair. "Don't worry we will have some meat on those rips in no time." She announced cheerfully, as she disappeared into the cooking section, where she filled a large plate with all kinds of meats and vegetables. She set the dish in front of Quatre. "Eat up, kid."  
Orin winked at him. "You better do as she says when you are down here. Everybody in the castle does, including his Highness."

"Oh, you better believe it." She nodded, hands on her hips. "He might be the king out there. But in the kitchen I rule."

Quatre couldn't help but smile. He was feeling more contented than he had in a very long time.     
  


***

Heero knocked on the door to Relena's chambers and waited for her invitation to enter before he stepped in.  
Dressed up for their engagement party, he was wearing white pants with a black sash, a white shirt and short white top with black and gold trimmings. He looked absolutely stunning. Relena's dress was red with black velvet trimmings. Her hair was braided and pulled together in the back and held by a black velvet bow.  The only jewelry she was wearing was a ring Milliardo had given her on her 12th birthday, and around her neck the diamond-studded choker her mother had worn at her wedding.

"You look beautiful."   
"Well, thank you." She smiled. Knowing that Heero didn't make compliments easily, it meant even more to her.  
"The guests are assembled. Your father sent me to see if you are ready?"  
"As ready as I ever will be." Relena looked at her soon to be betrothed. "What about you?"  
"I beg your pardon?" Heero asked surprised.  
"Are you sure you want to get through with this?"  
His eyes narrowed. "Of course I am going through with it." What kind of a question was this anyway? The king had talked to them about it in length. It was important for the future of the kingdom and had to be done no question about it. 

So, why didn't it feel right? 

_It wasn't supposed to be this way. Milliardo was supposed to be the future king and I was supposed to protect him. But I failed before I even had a chance to do so._

When he looked at himself in the mirror he could still see the scar across his chest, a constant reminder of his failure. The crown prince, his friend, had been killed because of him. _I wish I had died instead. But maybe having to live with that knowledge was my punishment for my failure. I can't think of any other reason why I'd deserve to be alive._  
Only when he heard Relena gasp, he realized that he had spoken those words out aloud. She turned toward him, took his shoulders and shook him.

"Heero, don't ever say something like this," she told him. "You need to stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over. Father has told you that before, and so have I. Stop torturing yourself. Milliardo wouldn't want that."  
"We shouldn't let the guests wait," Heero answered evasively.

Relena signed. "You are right, I suppose." She took the arm he was offering her and gave him a soft smile. "The people expect to see a happy couple, Heero. Let's give them what they want, shall we?"  
  


***

Quatre was preparing the horses for the royal carriage that would take Princess Relena and Lord Yuy through town. He had chosen a team of six snow-white stallions. After he brushed the animals, he then polished them with a bid of soft cloth till there wasn't as much as a single dust mote on the horses' hides. The king's trappings looked particularly well on them; blue cheek-pieces, blue bards and wide blue breastplates with the emblem of the royal house embroidered on them in gold. He even had braided blue bows into the horse's tails and manes.  
The blond youth still was amazed how much his life had changed over the past few weeks. It seemed almost too good to be true and at first he had almost feared that it was all but a dream he would wake up from any moment just to find himself back with the Duke. But now it seemed more as though the time that he spent at Oakwood castle had been a long nightmare he had finally woken up from.   
Quatre was spending most of his free time with Wufei. Somehow he could relate to the young wizard and felt most comfortable around him. Wufei had started teaching him to control his powers. It took hard work and a lot of practice, but he could tell that he was making progress. To his own surprise he soon found out that he seemed to have a special connection to Lord Yuy. Soon he didn't even have to touch the youth to perceive his emotions. He could feel Heero approach even before he could see him. On the other hand Wufei was like a looked door to Quatre. He couldn't read his feeling at all. He just assumed that it had to do with the fact that the boy was a wizard. 

Quatre started to hitch the mounts to the wagon; the carriage being open of course as the whole point of the tour through the town was for the subject to see the newly betrothed couple.   
They appeared in the early afternoon, after a ritual greeting of the guests in the main hall. Relena looked gorgeous and though her smile was very formal it seemed genuine. In her usual friendly way, she thanked Quatre for the lovely job he did. When Heero helped her into the carriage she squeezed his hand to get his attention.

"Smile," she whispered. "You are getting betrothed not executed."  
  


***

Heero had walked Relena to her chambers after the feast, then headed to the training room. He felt a little lightheaded from the wine he had been drinking during night, and he knew that physical activity was a good way to get the alcohol out of his system.

When Wufei walked into the training room before sunrise he was surprised to find Heero there. The young lord was dressed only in his white pants. The rest of his clothing, including his boots was lying on a pile near the door. His bare chest was covered in sweat. Damp brown bangs were stuck to his forehead; telltale signs that he had been exercising for some time.

"Heero, what are you doing here?" Wufei asked.

"I could ask you the same," the other youth answered. "I'm amazed that Treize let you out of bed so early in the morning."  
The wizard gave a low growl. "Are you trying to mock me, my Lord?"  
"Are you just going to stay there and let me, or are you going to do something about it?" Heero asked, a ghost of a smirk on his face. 

At the next moment he had to jump back quickly, as Wufei's foot missed him by mere inches. His own attack was blocked by the other boy with ease.  
"You still haven't answered my question." The brown-haired youth panted, as he sidestepped to avoid another on of Wufei's flying kicks.

"I'm expecting Quatre. I have been teaching him too."  
"Teaching him to fight? He hardly strikes me as a warrior." Heero seemed surprised.  
"Looks can be deceiving," the other youth answered. He attempted a roundhouse kick, only to have his foot caught in mid air by his opponent. Only his quick reflexes saved him from landing on his back. "Besides, Wushu is not… only an art of fighting… but also used for self defense."   
"I wanted to talk to you about Quatre." Heero said, blocking a set of fast punches with his arms.  
"How so?"   
"I have a strange feeling around him. It's like…"  
"…like he can read your inner thoughts?" Wufei finished. "He can, in a way."

"What?" Heero's arms dropped and he paid instantly for letting down his guard. Wufei's next kick connected with his jaw. The force of the impact would have knocked down any other man. Heero just swayed and shook his head. "What are you saying, Wufei?"

"He has special mental abilities… His mind is untrained though … can do little more than sense your emotions… have been trying to help him to get more control over his ability… but I do know little about them," the young wizard panted. It wasn't easy to fight and keep up a conversation at the same time. "My own powers are more physically than mentally as you know."  
"Does his Highness know about this?"  
Wufei gave the other youth an almost offended look. "You think I would keep something like that from the king?"

Moment's later the door to the training room opened again. Quatre stopped in his track as he saw that Wufei wasn't the only person in the room.  
"Should I come back later?" he asked.  
Heero shook his head. "Wufei and I were just finished. I would like to watch though, if you two don't mind."  
"That's fine with me." Wufei shrugged.

Quatre didn't say anything, because he was staring with wide eyes at the mark on Heero's right arm.  
  



	11. When Past and Present Collide part a

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

  
Part 9a – When Past and Present collide

"Quatre… Quatre what's wrong?"   
The blond boy ripped his gaze away from the mark he was staring at and looked at Heero.  
"Nothing…It's just that mark… It's the sign of a Chosen one, isn't it?"   
The wizard and the young lord exchanged a long look with each other. 

"What do you know about that?" Wufei asked.

"Not much," Quatre answered; "Just what I was told by my tutor when I was a child. H said that those who bare this mark are special, because their actions will in one way or another influence the future."  
"Have you ever seen this mark on anybody before?" Heero wanted to know.

The blond boy nodded. "Yes I have. I was born with one."

If Quatre would have suddenly grown a second head it couldn't have surprised Heero and Wufei any more than that simple statement.  
"Hmm," Wufei said after a moment. "I don't remember noticing a mark on you, when Treize and I undressed you back in Oakwood castle."

"Well," Quatre blushed as he bashfully pointed at a spot on his right buttock. "It's not a very noticeable place, and you didn't undress me all the way." 

***

After Heero brought the king the news, the monarch asked to see Quatre as well as Wufei and Treize.

"I take it you know why I called you here?" Stephán asked the captain as they met in the king's study.

Treize nodded. "Yes, your Highness. Wufei told me about it. I'm surprised to say the least that Quatre was living here in the Sanc Kingdom for so many years and we had no idea. It seems amazing really that we didn't meet the boy earlier."

"Maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Destiny works in strange ways," the king replied. "When I was a young boy, my grand sire used to tell me that everything in life happens for a reason. Although we might not see that reason right away, the day will come when we understand."

"Your Highness," Quatre asked quietly, and somewhat timidly. "May I ask what all of this means? I don't understand…"  
"Have you ever heard of the Knights of Destiny, son?"

Quatre nodded. "My sisters told me the story when I was small."

"Heero told me that you, when you saw his mark, referred to it as the "sign of a chosen one".  
"Yes, that is what I was told; that only a handful of very special people carry that mark."

Stephán nodded. "Yes, Quatre that's true. Those chosen ones, how you call them, are no others than the Knights of Destiny. And you are one of them."

"Then the legend is true?"  
"Yes it is."

"I still don't understand all of this," Quatre said, as he gazed up at the king with a lost look on his face. "What exactly does it mean? What is it I am… we are supposed to do?"  
"I'm afraid we are not sure of that either, Quatre. The book of destiny doesn't really tell too much about it. I suppose when the time comes we will know, but till then all you and Heero can do is prepare yourselves."  
"How can we prepare ourselves for something we know nothing about?" Quatre frowned.  
"I think it is safe to assume that you were born with your abilities for a reason. So you should keep improving them," Stephán replied. "I've heard that your practice with Wufei has been very successful so far. So you should keep working with him."  
The blond boy nodded enthusiastically. He loved training together with the young wizard.

"Perhaps it might be a good idea if Quatre also picks up some weapons skills," Treize suggested. "I could train him together with Heero."  
"I like the sound of that. I'm sure Quatre and I will benefit if we get to know each others strengths and weaknesses," Heero agreed.   
"But I'm not even allowed to carry a weapon," Quatre pointed out.   
"Don't you worry about that," the king told him. "I think it's a great idea."

Before he dismissed Quatre, King Stephán reminded everybody that anything that had been said in this room had to stay between the five of them only.

Treize waited until the door had closed behind the blond boy before he said: "Poor boy! He is confused and almost overwhelmed by all of this."

The king nodded. "Yes, I suppose it would be overwhelming for anybody."

"Are you going to set him free, Sire?" Heero asked.  
"I am thinking about it. But I will probably a little. I'm afraid that if things keep happening too fast he will be even more confused than he already is."  
The captain nodded in agreement. "That's probably a wise decision, your Highness. His life has already been turned upside down as it is."

"We should probably talk some more about this later, but for now I have to go. We have to greet a group of messengers from the Surabian Emirate. They arrived earlier this morning."  
"Oh, is that what woke me up at the break of dawn?" Treize asked.

The king nodded before he turned toward his foster son. "Heero, did you get any sleep at all last night?"  
"Don't worry about it, Sire. I can go several days without sleep if necessary."

"Oh, to be young again." Treize sighed theatrically. "I got four hours of sleep and I still feel chewed up and spit out.

"That, my dear Captain, has nothing to do with age," the king laughed, "but rather with the amount of wine you had last night. Those hangovers are something terrible aren't they? Besides you shouldn't be complaining about age. You are only half as old as I am."

***

A tall, broad shouldered, Arab with dark brown hair and a neatly groomed beard of the same color, entered the main hall followed by a number of men carrying gifts for the newly betrothed couple. The man was dresses in white pants that hung loose around his legs but were pulled together at the ankles. A light colored shirt and a short blue vest completed his outfit. The man was very tall? He towered easily over everybody in the room including his companions.

As he approached the king, his daughter and the young lord, the man bowed deeply. He introduced himself as Rashid Kurama, representative of the ruler of Surabia.

"This highness the Emir is sending his regards and warmest wished for the young couple. He deeply regrets that his health didn't allow him to make the long journey himself. But he hopes you will accept his humble presents."  
With that the man clapped his hands and two of his assistants stepped forward. One of the men carried a black velvet pad. Upon it lay a set of the finest jewelry; a golden necklace adored with precious stones, matching earrings and several arm bands. The other man carried an Arabian Sword hand-made from the finest metals, and lavishly decorated. Rashid clapped again, and more servants brought beautifully woven oriental rugs and cloths of the finest silk in all colors of the rainbow.  
Princess Relena smiled at the tall man after he let her gaze wander over the beautiful gifts

"Please let the Emir know we feel honored by his precious and wonderful gifts. His taste is only surpassed by his generosity. We are sorry to hear of his poor health and hope that we will recover soon."  
"If there is anything we can do…?" King Stephán asked. "Send him one of our healers perhaps?"  
The tall Arab shook his head, regretfully. "I'm afraid the reason for his majesty's illness is more emotionally than physically. He has never really overcome the lost of his only son, although many years have passed."

The king nodded sympathetically. This was something he could very much relate to. "We regret to hear that," he said. "I can imagine that you and your men must be exhausted after your long journey. Let me have somebody show you to the quarters I had prepared for you."  
"Thank you, your Highness," the man answered. "You are too kind. But if you don't mind I would like to show you the other presents first."  
"More presents?" Relena asked surprise.  
The tall Arab nodded. "Yes, my Princess. The Emir learned that your family shared his love for well breed horses and he sent along three of his finest Arab steeds, two young mares and a stallion. They have been broken if you care to ride them, but they are also great breeding material."  
"Wonderful. Let's go see them then," the king said, enthusiastically.

***

"Quatre, where in the world have you been?" Orin asked as the blond boy entered the royal stable.   
"Forgive me, but his Highness asked to see me," Quatre apologized. "I really didn't mean to leave you with all the work."  
The old man made a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it. I just wanted to show you something."  
"Show me what?" Quatre asked curiously, as he followed the stable master into the yard, where three beautiful horses stood tethered. All three steeds were white with grayish heads and dapples on their shoulders and hindquarters. Their headgear was adored with blue and silver tassels, and each of them was wearing a finely spun saddle blanket in the same colors.

"Where did those come from?" Quatre asked.  
"Some royal messengers brought them, as presents for Princess Relena and Lord Yuy. I've heard they came from some far of land in the south." Orin explained, as he stroked the head of one of the mares. "I suppose it is no wonder that the poor things look so scrawny after a long journey like that. But I'm sure with some good oats and a nice rest we will get them back in shape in no time."

Quatre looked at the old man and tried hard to suppress a giggle. But finally he burst out laughing until tears were streaming over his face.  
"What? What's so funny?" the old man asked with a scowl.  
"I'm sorry, Orin," the boy panted as he finally was able to speak again. "But these are pure bred Arabian horses. They are supposed to look that "scrawny"."

"Don't pull my legs, boy," Orin growled. "How is a mount as skinny as this supposed to carry a rider in battle gear?"  
"I'm not lying, I swear, Orin," Quatre assured the old man. "The people who breed these horses don't wear armor. They live in the desert and it is far too hot there."  
"People live in the desert?" The stable master asked dubiously.   
Quatre nodded. "Yes. Horses like these are raised because of their speed. A good and fast mount can be the difference between life and death if you live in the desert."  
"Hmm," the old man grunted as he looked over the horses again. "Looking at their legs and muscles I suppose what you say makes sense," he agreed.  
The blond boy smirked. "I told you that I knew about horses, didn't I? So what land did you say they came from?"  
"Some place called Surania or something like that."  
"Do you mean Surabia?"  
"Yes, yes," Orin confirmed "That's it. A group of couriers from that land arrived this morning. They are meeting with his highness right now."  
"Do you know if the Emir of Surabia himself was with them?" Quatre asked very quietly.  
The old man shook his head. "No, I don't think so. There would have been a more formal reception for somebody of that position." When he looked at the boy Orin noticed that Quatre had grown very pale. "Are you alright, son?" he asked concerned. "You look like you are going to pass out on me. Let me guess, you have been training with that boy wizard again all morning and haven't had time to eat a proper breakfast."

Quatre told the man that he was alright. He assured him that in fact he had eaten breakfast and that there was nothing to worry about. Just then he noticed a number of people approaching them. When his eyes fell onto the tall, bearded Arabian at the king's side the boy was barely able to suppress a gasp.  
"I just remember that there is something I forgot to do," he blurted out as he turned and walked away quickly.  
"Quatre!" the old man called after him, stupefied. "What in the name of…"

***

"Quatre…"   
Rashid's head flew around as he heard that name, just in time to see a slim boy with golden blond hair disappear in one of the stable buildings. His eyes grew wide and his heart skipped almost a beat.  
_By Allah, it can't be…_  
"Please excuse me," he stammered, directed at the king and his entourage, before he run after the boy.

"What in the world brought that on," Treize shook his head as they watched Rashid disappear into the stable.

"Hn," Heero frowned. "It seemed to me like he was running after Quatre."  
"I'll go to check to see what is going on." Wufei followed the tall Arab before anybody could stop him.

Rashid caught up with Quatre inside the stable.  
// "Prince Quatre?!" // he called out, but the youth didn't even react. The man reached out and carefully touched the boy's shoulder. // "Your Highness."//

The blond stopped and turned, eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid you are mistaken me for somebody else."  
Rashid shook his head, as he went down on his knees. // "I'm not mistaken, my prince you have not changed much in all those years. And even if my eyes would deceive me, my heart knows it is you. Don't you recognize me, Prince Quatre?"//  
Quatre sighed. "Get up. This is embarrassing."

//"Praise to Allah, you are alive."// Rashid exclaimed as he rose to his feet. //"Your family will be overjoyed."//

"I do not have a family." Quatre snapped coldly, as he turned away. "Now excuse me, I do have duties to tend to."  
The tall Arab looked like he had been slapped in the face. "My Prince..."

The boy jerked around abruptly, hands clenched to fists, fury in his emerald blue eyes. "Would you please stop calling me that?" he hissed. His right hand went to the collar around his neck. "See this? What does it look like to you, a royal crown? I stopped being a prince a long time ago. But don't worry about me? I'm perfectly happy with who I am now. For the first time in my life I'm finally around people who care more about me than the person who sired me. So please leave me alone."  
Rashid made one step to follow the blond youth, but he was stopped in his track by an invisible wall. The man let out a gasp of surprise.  
"I believe he made it clear that he doesn't want you to follow him."  
As Rashid turned he saw Wufei leaning against the stable door, and for a moment he wondered how long the boy had been there.  
"What did you do? Who are you?"  
"Just a friend of Quatre," Wufei remarked calmly, as he pushed away from the wooden door and followed in the direction Quatre had left. The invisible barrier didn't seem to affect him at all.

Rashid frowned and reached out carefully, just to check if the wall was indeed still there. Little sparks of energy danced around the tips of his fingers as he made contact, and he quickly pulled his hand away, muttering something in his native language.

Wufei found Quatre in the barn. 

"Go away, Rashid," the boy growled without even turning.  
"It's me, Wufei. Are you alright?"  
"Yes I'm fine," Quatre lied.  
"Is it true what that man said?" Wufei wanted to know.   
As he walked over to Quatre, the boy turned toward him. "You heard us?"  
The young wizard nodded. "I heard, but I'm afraid I don't understand. I thought you said you don't have a family."  
"I don't," Quatre snapped. This was a painful subject for him and he became very defensive when it was brought up. "My so called family abandoned me when I was only a little boy. I never want to have anything to do with them ever again."

***

"Is everything alright, Sir?" Treize asked, as Rashid rejoined the small group in the yard. 

The tall Arab looked like he had seen a ghost.  
"He is alive." Rashid replied. "I have finally found him."

Treize, the king and Heero exchanged a few confused looks. The man's words made absolutely no sense to them. "Who is alive?"

"Prince Quatre, heir to the Surabian Emirate. He was believed to have died almost seven years ago. I praise Allah for leading me to him."

"Prince Quatre?" Heero asked puzzled. "Are you saying that Quatre, our stable boy, is the son of your Emir?"   
Rashid nodded. "It is a miracle. I have to send out a courier at once. The Emir and his family will be overjoyed at the news."

"How?" The captain gave the man a skeptical look. "No offence, but he doesn't even look at all like one of your people."   
"Prince Quatre got his looks from his mother," Rashid explained. "She had hair as golden as the sun over the desert and eyes as blue as the water of a deep lake. The Emir brought her with him from one of his journeys to the north."  
"I think that this calls for some kind of explanation," King Stephán suggested. "Heero, please tell Quatre that I would like to see him, and Wufei as well."

"Yes, Sir." Heero nodded.

***

Only a short time later a small group gathered in the king's study. Stephán had decided that the room was more fitting for the semi private meeting than the main hall would have been.

"I believe I'm not the only one in this room who is curious to find out what is going on here," the king spoke. "Would you mind telling us?"

An obviously nervous Rashid tried to catch Quatre's eyes but failed. The boy appeared to be more interested in the wall paintings. Finally Rashid sighed.  
"I'm not quite sure where to begin, so I'll just go as far back as it is possible … His Highness the Emir always felt very blessed. He had six wonderful wives who gave him twenty-eight beautiful daughters. The country was growing and flourishing more than it had never before. But there was one thing he was missing in his life. He still didn't have an heir to the throne, somebody who would take over the Emirate after he was gone. So he prayed every day for a son, and finally Allah answered his prayers. His 1st wife, Quaterine, gave birth to a healthy boy, who was named Quatre in her honor. But Allah can be cruel sometimes. He gave the Emir the son he had wanted for so long, but made him pay greatly for it. Quaterine never recovered from the strain of childbirth, and died only a few days later…"

"That's why the Emir hated me, isn't it? Because I killed the person he loved the most." Quatre whispered quietly, sorrowfully.  
Rashid's eyes went wide in shock. "How can you say this, my Prince? Your father loved you very much. Do you really believe he held you responsible for the death of your mother?"  
Quatre snorted but didn't say a word.

"Why don't we just get on with the story?" the king suggested.  
"As your wish, your Highness." Rashid nodded. "As soon as Prince Quatre was born it was discovered that he had a mysterious mark on his body. At first nobody could identify it or knew what it meant. But there was a strange man, a kind of hermit, who lived alone in the desert near a small oasis. His name was H. People said that he was a crazy old wizard. I'm not sure about that, but he did have some kind of powers and he seemed to know about things that nobody else did. H came to the palace soon after Prince Quatre was born and requested an audience with the emir. Somehow he knew about the prince's mark, although nobody outside the Emir's circle of closest confidants had been told about it. H told the Emir that his son was born with a special gift…"  
Quatre gave another. "He called it a gift?" There was a noticeable trace of bitterness in his voice. "I always considered it more of a curse."  
Nobody else in the room spoke a word. Rashid gave the boy a sorrowful look before he continued.

:::Begin of Flashback :::

"So what are you saying?" the Emir asked the old man with the strange looking mustache, who had just told him that his son was destined for greater things than becoming the heir to the throne.  
"I'm saying that Prince Quatre will need special tutoring if he was ever to learn to control his powers." H said.

"What powers are you talking about?" the monarch frowned upon his visitor. "I have not noticed anything different about my son. He is just like any other healthy baby boy."

"For the moment he is, your Highness. But believe me that once he gets older you will know what I'm talking about."  
"So what do you suppose should be done about it?"  
"Send the boy with me. I can teach him. I can give him the guidance he needs."  
"How dare you to ask me to hand my child over to you. You are lucky I don't have you locked up and executed for your impudence," the Emir spat angrily. "All the guidance the prince needs he will get right here at the palace. Rashid..." He turned toward his personal bodyguard. "Take this man to the city gates and make sure he doesn't return."

Rashid nodded, as he stepped toward H and the man's arm to pull him away.   
"If you ever seen within the walls of this city again I swear you'll loose your head," the Emir warned.  
"You don't really mean that," the old man replied calmly. "Mark my word, your Highness. The prince bears the sign of a chosen one. His destiny is determined by greater powers than yours."

"Quatre's destiny is to become some day the ruler of Surabia," the Emir bellowed. "Rashid get this man out of my sight."

::: end of Flashback:::

"…For the next few years Prince Quatre grew up normally, or as normal as can expected for the crown prince of Surabia. The Emir and his family had all but forgotten about the old man and his prediction about the prince's powers. But when Prince Quatre was about three summers old strange things started to happen around him. It only increased as he got older."  
"What kind of things?" Heero asked. It was the first time that anybody but Quatre had interrupted Rashid in his story.   
"Different things," Rashid replied. "One time one of the palace cats had caught a bird. The creature was barely alive when Prince Quatre got a hold of it. I watched as the prince took the bird into his hand. There was a strange glow and suddenly it took off and flew away like it had never been hurt. Prince Quatre on the other hand collapsed and passed out. It scared me almost to death. It took nearly a week for him to fully recover from incident."  
Wufei nodded understandingly. "Healing spells take a whole lot of energy. My Sifu didn't even let me attempt my first healing spell till I was almost eight summers old."

"But there were also other incidents," Rashid continued "Sometimes Prince Quatre would hurl objects through the air when he got angry, not even realizing what he was doing."  
"And in the end I almost burned the stable down," Quatre added quietly.  
"His Highness became concerned that the prince could accidentally hurt somebody or himself. He decided that he couldn't ignore the old man's warning any longer and he sent for H."  
"So it's true then what Quatre said." Heero eyes narrowed in condemnation. "He was sent away by his own father because of his powers."

"That's not what was supposed to happen," Rashid shook his head. "His Highness the Emir, wanted the old man to tutor Prince Quatre at the royal palace. But H said it couldn't be done like that. He explained that he needed to take the prince with him to a place where his mind would be free of any unwanted distraction. He said that within a year Quatre should be able to come back to the palace and continue his training there. After the incident with the stable the Emir finally agreed. I personally escorted the prince and H back to the old man's home."

"You just left me there. Do you have any idea how scared I was? I wanted to go home." Quatre's voice was thick with tears he tried to fight back. "I missed my sisters, the palace, even you Rashid. I hoped that father would come to see me. I thought that he would take me back home when I promised to be good. But he never came. I waited every day and he never came."

The Arab looked at the blond boy heavyhearted. "I'm sorry, my Prince."

"What happened then?" Treize asked. "How did Quatre get from his father's land to the Sank Kingdom? How and when did he become a slave?"  
"I do not know." Rashid shook his head, and everybody's eyes shifted to Quatre.  
Only he could fill in the missing parts.   
"Raiders attacked us," Quatre said. "They came during the night while I was sleeping. Before I knew what happened I was taken and thrown over a horseback. I don't even know what happened to H."  
"Raiders?" Treize wondered.   
"Hostile nomadic tribes," Rashid explained. "They make a living scavenging, but occasionally they also attack small settlements, caravan's or other tribes. If they take prisoners they usually keep them as slaves or sell them."

Quatre nodded. "The man who bought me resold me later to the Duke. I don't think that he or the raiders had any idea who I was. And at that point it really didn't matter anymore." 

"My prince, I realize that I can't undo what happened to you," Rashid said. "But now that I have found you, I'll make sure that nothing ever happens to you again."  
Quatre frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I won't leave here without you, my Prince."  
"Then you better prepare yourself to stay here for a very long time. Because short of tied to a horse there is no way I'll go back to Surabia with you," Quatre snapped angrily.  
"My Prince, what am I supposed to tell your father?"  
"Tell him whatever you want. Tell him the truth… or don't tell him anything at all. What do I care?" 

"I think," the king interrupted. "I would like to talk to Quatre, privately."

***

Once everybody else had left and only the king and Quatre remained in the library, Stephán looked at the blond boy for a long while before he finally said: "Quatre, I believe that you should go with Rashid back to your father's palace."  
Quatre bit his lips. "You are sending me away too?" he asked quietly. His voice trembled as he fought the tightness in his throat and the prickling of tears in his eyes.  
The king shook his head, as he softly laid one hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm not sending you anywhere; not against you will. You are welcome to stay if you do not want to go. But I would like you listen to me. For a moment please try to think of me not as the king, but as a father who has lost a son too and who knows what he is talking about. Whether what your father did was right or not, I'm sure he has regretted his decision hundreds of times. I do understand that you are angry and hurt. But I believe that deep inside you do not hate your father so much that you can't find it in your heart to forgive him. I think that you and your father have to meet face to face to resolve everything between the two of you, so you can make peace with each other. But it is a decision you need to make on your own…"

Quatre opened his mouth for a reply, but the king held his hand up and stopped him before he could say a word.  
"I do not want the answer this moment. Right now you are too angry to think clearly. I want you to take your time and think about it. As much time as you believe you need. Rashid and his men will stay here for at least a few weeks to rest before heading back home. So there is no need to rush anything. I do not want you to make a decision you might end up regretting for the rest of your life."  
"Thank you, your Highness." Quatre gave the man a little smile. "I have just one more question."

"Yes?"

"If I was to go with Rashid, will you allow me come back?"  
"If that's what you want. Quatre, there will be always a place for you at this castle, because I'm convinced that you have found your way here for a reason."  
Quatre's smile grew a little wider. "Your Highness, I believe you are the best father anybody could wish for."  
For a moment the king wondered if Milliardo would have agreed with that statement. _Most likely not_, he thought saddened. _There were so many times when we didn't see eye to eye._

***

Taking the kings advice, Quatre took his time in making his decision on whether to stay at the Sank Kingdom or return home. It wasn't easy. He still was angry. He still was hurt. But on the other hand, he also saw the truth in the king's words. 

Quatre had spoken to Wufei about it. The young wizard had just said that he didn't understand him. He, Quatre, should be thanking whatever god he is praying to, that he was lucky enough to have a family. Others were not that fortunate. 

Quatre sighed at the memory of that conversation, as he walked into the training room a little earlier than usually. Just as he had expected Heero was already there. Sometimes Quatre wondered if Heero was interested in anything else but weapons and fighting. There had to be more to life than trying to become a perfect warrior.

"Heero, do you mind if I try something on you?" Quatre asked as he approached the boy.  
The other youth looked at him suspiciously. "Try what?"  
"I want to see how far I can explore your mind," the blond boy answered. "You seemed to be the only person I know who can sense it when I touch their mind. And I seem to have a deeper connection to you than to anybody else. I wonder if there is more to it."

"Hn" Heero grunted reluctantly. He didn't really like the idea, but after a moment he nodded once. "Alright, what do you want me to do?"  
"Nothing, just relax."  
Quatre let his eyes fall half-closed, then begun carefully to touch the young lord's mind. At first there was nothing new. Keeping his own perception open, he could feel the other's emotions wash over him. But when he tried to probe deeper it suddenly felt like a giant invisible hand planted itself on his chest, pushing him backward. The blond boy stumbled to keep his balance, took two steps back, and let out a gasp.

Heero's eyes went wide in surprise.

"What did you do?" Quatre asked at the exact same moment as the other youth said. "What did I do?"  
And simultaneously they answered: "I don't know." 

"Let me try that again," the blonde said. Again he reached out with his own thoughts and again he was pushed away with physical force, as soon as tried to explore more than just the surface of Heero's mind.

"Hmmm," he frowned. "I think your reflexes are protecting you instinctively from my penetration. That's rather interesting. Can you try to open yourself up and **allow** me to enter your mind deeper?"  
"I'll try." Heero relaxed himself. He could feel the other boy touch him mentally and this time he consciously invided him to proceed.   
_Wow, it worked. Can you hear me?_

The brown-haired boy's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.   
Quatre chuckled. _I take that as a yes_, he sent mentally.   
"How," Heero stammered. "How is that possible? I could hear you thoughts."  
"I don't know. But I could hear yours too. Let's try one more thing. This time try to resist when you feel me approach."

The young lord nodded, concentrating again. It took several attempts but eventually he was able to block the blond boy out, almost knocking Quatre off his feet at the last try.

Heero had to admit that it was in a way reassuring to know, that he could block himself from the other boy if he chose to.

"This is amazing." Quatre gasped.

"What's amazing?" Treize asked, as he walked into the training room together with Wufei.

The blond boy turned toward him. "Captain, can I try something on you? Would you just relax for a moment and let me try to touch your mind."

The ginger blond man didn't look any more thrilled by the idea than Heero had been, but nodded his approval. Quatre wasted no time. He concentrated as he mentally probed the surface of Treize's mind. He encountered nothing out of the extraordinary and dug deeper. The captain showed no reaction. He didn't even seem to notice was the blond youth was doing.  
"Did you feel anything?" Quatre asked after a while.

Treize shook his head.

"Just as I'd thought. Most people never notice when I touch their mind. Heero however does. He can also block my attempt. I assume it has something to do with him and me both being… **Chosen ones**…. But I'm not positive yet. So just to make sure, let me try it on you Wufei."

"No!" the wizard shouted.  
But Quatre had already reached out. Not sooner as he had made a connection, he was pushed backward with such a force that he crashed into the wall across the room.   
"Wufei!" Treize gasped, as the young wizard turned and stormed out of the room. He gazed at Quatre, who looked somewhat dazed. "Are you okay, Quatre?"   
The boy just nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head, Quatre climbed back on his feet. "Remind me never to do that again."   
"What happened?" Heero asked.  
The other youth shrugged. "I believe he has been blocking me all along. That's why I never was able to read him."  
"But how is that possible? That would mean that Wufei is one of **us**, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose so," Quatre answered. "It certainly would explain a lot. I'm just not sure why tried to hide it. Did you know, Captain?"

The ginger-blond man shook his head. "I had no idea."

"Perhaps you should go after him, Captain," Heero suggested.

Treize nodded in agreement and dashed after the young wizard.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's notes:

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	12. When Past and Present Collide part b

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story

_________________________________________________________________________________________  
  


Part 9b – When Past and Present collide

Treize sighed, as pounded once more against the large wooden door to the wizard tower.   
"Open up, Wufei," he demanded. "Let me in."  
He was really starting to get concerned. The captain had considered opening the door by force, but abandoned that idea after thinking about it. He was no coward, but he wasn't a fool either. And incense the already agitated wizard even more was as foolish as it gets.  

"Wufei, we need to talk…please" he pleaded.  
A short while later, just as the captain was about to give up, the door suddenly swung open with a squeaking noise. 

The boy wizard was sitting on the sill of one of the tower's windows when the captain stepped into the room. He had his knees pulled up against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, as he stared at something outside the window.

"I suppose you are angry with me for deceiving you all this time," Wufei said quietly, without turning his head. "I really can't blame you."

"Angry? No, I'm not angry," Treize answered softly. "But I do admit I'm a little hurt. Wufei, I thought that by now you would trust me enough to not keep anything from me. Especially not something of that magnitude."   
"I'm sorry."  
"And I think I deserve an explanation. We all do."  
Wufei sighed, still staring out of the window. "I suppose you do."  
"So, you are one of the Knights of Destiny? If you knew all along, why didn't you tell anybody?" Treize wanted to know.  
"Because I'm weak," Wufei answered; his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm weak and unreliable and I don't deserve to call myself a Knight of Destiny. The others are better off without me."

"What would make you say something like that?" Treize asked.

He closed the distance between the door and the young wizard with a few steps, and gently placed his hand on Wufei's shoulder. As the boy finally turned toward him, Treize could see tears shimmering in those dark obsidian depths and the effort it took Wufei to fight them.

"Remember when I told you that I as sold into slavery after soldiers attacked our village?" Wufei asked. "It's true…but I didn't tell you the whole story…

::: Begin of Flashback:::

The boy was sitting in a meadow of grass and spring flowers; on his knees a book of Chinese poetry. For a change he was reading for pure enjoyment, not because he had to. He had sneaked away from under the ever watchful eye of his Sifu, while O was taking an afternoon nap. He was well aware that Master O would be angry with him and punish him with some extra lessons. But spending some time just enjoying himself was worth it. Little could Wufei know this time there would be a much greater price to pay.

// "Wufei!"//

He looked up, grimacing as he recognized the girl running up the hill screaming his name. Meilan, granddaughter of the clan's elder, could be quite annoying at times. But on the other hand she was one of the few children in the village not afraid of Wufei's powers and probably the only real friend the young wizard had. And when he was honest he had to admit, she was quite alright, **for a** **girl**.   
// "Wufei" // she breathed, as she dropped into the grass next to him, gasping for air. // "Master O sent me… he needs you…Soldiers… attacking… the village…" //

He jumped up, shocked, and started racing downhill toward the village. He could hear Meilan yell for him to wait up, but he wasn't listening. His heart was pounding and his rage was building as he saw clouds of smoke rise into the sky. He just didn't seem to be able to run fast enough. Most of the town was engulfed in flames by the time he reached it. The air was thick with dark smoke and the smell of blood and burning flesh. Master O lived near the edge of the village. His house was one of the few which were not burning yet. Wufei stumbled through the door and froze in shock as he found his Sifu's bloodied body on the floor in the main room. Dropping to his knees the small boy turned the man over with shaking hands. He was relieved as he found O was still breathing. But relief quickly turned to shock the sight of a horrifying sword wound at the man's abdomen. He knew immediately that he would not be able to heal a wound that bad. His master had lost too much blood already; his body had grown too weak.

//"Master O."//  
O opened his eyes with great effort and tried to focus at the boy.  
//"I'm sorry, Master. I should have…"// Wufei whispered.  
//"Wufei, you need to leave. There is nothing you can do here anymore. Save yourself before it is too late."// The man's voice was frail.  
//"But…"//  
//"You can not allow to get yourself killed, Wufei. You can not let them capture you…I knew they would be coming…I just didn't know it would be so quickly."// O's voice grew thinner. //"I just wish that there would have been more time to prepare you… Dark Magic is strong… Remember that. …You have been a good pupil, Wufei, but you still have a lot to learn… Now go!"//

The boy hesitated. He had always been told to obey the elder's orders. And O was not only an elder, but also his Sifu. But how could he just leave? 

Startled by a noise outside, Wufei jumped up and ran to the door, just in time to see a soldier on horseback with a torch in his hand, trying to set fire to the house. The man was not Chinese, but had pale skin and hair of a dirty yellow color like the boy had never seen it before. He had to be one of those westerners his Sifu had told him about.

Wufei let out a cry of rage as he hurled a bolt of energy toward the man. The impact knocked the soldier out of his saddle, throwing him several yards before he fell to the ground with twisted limbs like a broken doll. Wufei armed himself with the dead soldier's sword. It was large and heavy, almost too heavy for a boy his age. 

_I'm sorry, Master O.  But how can I run off and hide while my clan is being slaughtered?_   
Wufei ran into another soldier as he turned a corner. The man never saw the weapon that hit him and died with an utterly surprised expression on his face, but not without letting out a cry. Alarmed by that sound several other soldiers appeared almost immediately. While he was fighting one of them with his sword, the boy cast down another blast of energy on a second soldier. Wufei didn't realize that there were so many of them. He fought furiously, hurling wave after wave of lethal energy against his enemies. Suddenly something hit him between the shoulder blades knocking him to the ground. He spun around to face a soldier who had raised his sword ready to strike. Wufei brought up his hand, but he had exhausted himself. The power that he had left was barely creating some crackling sparks around his fingertips. Realizing that he was done for, Wufei waited for the deadly blow. But before it came somebody yelled.  
"Don't kill him, you fool. He is the one we are looking for."  
The blade of a sword was pressed against his throat and Wufei closed his eyes in resignation. He was seized and pulled to his feet. When he struggled to free himself something struck him on the side of his head. Fighting to stay conscious Wufei, barely noticed the tall soldier with shoulder long, gray hair approaching him. He felt something being clasped around his neck and at once he had trouble breathing, as though there was suddenly not enough oxygen in the air. His fingers went to the thing around his neck. It felt like a collar made from some kind of cold metal, but it seemed loose enough. So why couldn't he breathe?   
"We got what we came for," the gray-haired man said without any emotion. "Finish off the rest of them."  
"Captain Quinze, are you sure? We could take at least the women and children with us. They would bring good money back home," somebody suggested.  
"Which was the part you didn't understand, Lieutenant? I said kill them," the captain snapped coldly.  
"NO! You can't. I won't let you…" Wufei broke free from the soldiers holding him. Once again he tried to summon his power, praying that he had recovered enough. But instead he collapsed to the ground. He felt like he was burned from the inside, liquid fire shooting through his veins. He wanted to scream. His body convulsed on the floor in agony, but his throat didn't produce any sound. When the spasms finally stopped and the haze cleared from his brain Wufei saw the gray-haired soldier standing over him. Quinze stared at the boy without any sign of sympathy.  
"So you understand and speak our language? That will make things easier."

Wufei just glared at the man. He had been taught several languages from a very young age and spoke most of them as fluidly as his native Chinese.

"As you probably know by now you can't use your magic," His captor explained in an emotionless voice. "The neck band you are wearing won't let you. Every time you try you will only end up hurting yourself."  
:::End of Flashback:::

"I couldn't even save my own clan," Wufei whispered, as he hung his head low in shame. "They killed every last person in the village, men, women, and children; all because of me."  
Treize shook his head softly as he put his arms around the young wizard. He could feel Wufei tense in his embrace. His heart went out to the boy who had been living with such feelings of guild for all that time.  
"There were men in your village that couldn't stop those soldiers; not even your mentor could. And you were only a child, Wufei. You were only nine summers old."  
"I was almost ten." Wufei corrected. "But that's not the point. I should have been there, but I wasn't. Together with Master O we might have been able to stop them… I could have done something…I should have been there." The young wizard finally couldn't fight back his tears any longer. "Look at me, how weak I am." He sobbed.  
"You are not weak," Treize assured him, as he hugged the boy tighter.   
"Yes I am," Wufei replied angrily as he freed himself from the captain's embrace. "If I wasn't such a weak coward I would have joined my clan, but I wasn't even strong enough to kill myself after they captured me."  
Again Treize shook his head, as he looked down at the boy.   
"No Wufei, you are wrong. That makes you anything but a coward. Taking your own life is the easy way out. To go on living after loosing someone that you love takes much more strength, Wufei. Believe I know what I'm talking about."

The young wizard gave him a questioning look.   
"Her name was Une." Treize explained, suddenly realizing that he had never even mentioned her to the boy before. _So much for not keeping secrets from each other_, he thought.  
"She was the most amazing woman I have ever known, and a Lieutenant under my command." He gave Wufei a hint of a smile. "I know, you believe women shouldn't be soldiers. But you've never met Une. I'm sure she would have changed your mind. Her fighting skills put many men to shame. But she was as much a lady as she was a warrior. I fell for her the moment I saw her for the first time. I courted her for about eight months before I had the nerves to ask her father for her hand. A date for the wedding was set for late summer and it was agreed upon, that after getting married we would resign our commissions and move to a small estate my family owns. A few weeks later our troop was called into battle. Wanting to keep her out of harms way, I left Une in charge of a small number of soldiers back at our stronghold. But while we were gone Dekim Barton's men attacked a village nearby. Une and her men managed to fend off the attack, but she was mortally wounded. When word of her dead reached me I wanted to die right then and there. I wasn't sure how I would be able to go on without her, but somehow I did." He gave the boy a long glance before he added. "So I suppose you think I'm weak too?"

Wufei's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, of course not; I would never think you are weak."  
"Why not?" Treize asked. "I was much older than you, a trained soldier, and yet unable to save the one person I loved more than anything."  
"But you were far away when it happened."  
"Right," Treize agreed. "Because of a mistake I made, a wrong decision that cost her life. If I would have taken her…"  
"You can't look at it like that. You couldn't know what would happen."   
"And you could?"  
Wufei opened his mouth but closed it again without a word ,when he realized that this was an argument he wasn't going to win. Treize took the boy in his arms once more and this time he didn't resist. Leaning his head against the man's chest Wufei allowed his lover to comfort him. For a long while neither of them spoke a word. Then Treize broke the silence.  
"Wufei?"  
"Yes?"  
"There is something I still don't understand. Your mark…how come have I never noticed it? After all I know every inch of that lovely body of yours."  
Wufei didn't answer right away. He raised his hand and stared, lost in memories, at a pale burn scar in the center of its palm.

:::Begin Flashback :::  
  
Soon after setting up camp the soldiers had thrown Wufei in a small canvas tent. The boy was wearing shackles on his wrists and around his ankles. The short chains between them allowed for little movement, making any attempt to escape impossible. Wufei had long since realized that the collar around his throat not only prevented him from using magic. He remembered that his Sifu had once said something about him, Wufei, being born with magic in his blood. He didn't really know what it meant till now. The magic was part of him, had been part of him all his life. Loosing it suddenly was hurting him physically.

Some time after dawn the gray-haired man the other soldiers referred to as Captain Quinze came to bring him his meal, like he had done previously. He put a bowl of something that looked like some kind of stew next to the boy. And just like before Wufei kicked the dish away, spilling the stew.  
The man let out an angry growl as he crouched down near the boy.  
"Listen to me. We have a long and strenuous trip ahead of us, and I have all intentions to keep you alive. So if you continue to stubbornly refuse to eat I'll have my men force the food down your throat. Did I make myself clear?"  
_You can certainly try._ Wufei gave the man a hateful glare. Not only had he not eaten a bite of food since he had been captured, he also hadn't spoken a single word.

The boy's quiet defiance infuriated the captain. Anger clouded his better judgment, as he leaned forward to grab the boy by the front of his shirt. A mistake he would regret immediately. But then again, perhaps he never had the time to regret it. Wufei who had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time lashed out with one swift motion, the edge of his hand hitting Quince's throat and crushed his windpipe. The man hit the floor, his mouth wide open in a futile attempt to gasp for air.   
_It was foolish of you to think I need magic to kill you._  
Alarmed by the noise the guards posted outside the tent rushed in. Eyes wide in shock they looked at their leader on the ground twitching in death spasms, then to the boy. Wufei stared back at them calmly. He expected that they would kill him now and he was going to accept his faith without fear. And one of the soldiers did unsheathe his word ready to slay the prisoner. But at the last moment changed his mind for some reason and struck the boy over the head instead, knocking him unconscious.  
"What's going on?" A tall blond soldier stormed into the tent.  
"The little son of a bitch killed the Captain," one of the guards answered.  
"Hn," the other man made, with a look down at the two prone figures. "Maybe that whelp did us actually a favor. I was really getting fed up with Quinze anyway and you can't tell me you felt any different."  
"Well," one of the guards agreed. "He was difficult to be around at times."

"I still think he should have let us take those villagers and sell them back home. He might have been happy with a pat on the back and a "Well done, soldier". I, on the other hand, expect to get some spoils out of an operation like this." The blond said.  
The two guards nodded in agreement.  
"What are we going to do now, Lieutenant?" one of them asked.  
"I have no intentions to turn that boy over to that witch. I say we sell him."  
"Are you serious, Sir?"  
The blond soldier nodded. "Of course I am. Look at him, he is handsome. I bet that back home they have never seen something like him. He is young and has a lot of spunk. Maybe a little too much spunk, but that can be changed. Not to forget that he is a wizard. He should bring a good price."  
"Lady Catorce is not going to like it. She wants that boy badly. If she was to find out…"  
"I don't really care what that witch wants. Besides she will not find out. The only way to identify the whelp is that mark on his hand, right? So without it he is just a normal boy, a prisoner of war. And it is our right to do with him whatever we want," the Lieutenant replied.  
He walked out of the tent and over to one of the campfires lit by the soldiers, pulled his dagger from his belt and placed it into the flames. 

"Bring the boy here," he commanded.  
Wufei was just regaining consciousness, as he was dragged over to the fire.   
"Hold him down," the Lieutenant ordered, once the blade of his dagger had turned red hot.   
The boy started kicking and tossing when he realized what the man was planning to do. But he didn't have much of a chance against the much larger number of much heavier men. They pinned him down to the ground. One of the soldiers seized his hand, forcefully opening the boy's fist. Wufei screamed in agony when the hot metal was pressed against his skin.

:::End of Flashback:::

The young Wizard was still staring at the burn scar on his hand when he had finished recounting the story. It had healed long since, but the memories were still fresh in his mind.   
Treize held the boy in his arms, gently stoking his head, and vowed once more that he would never let anybody hurt his lover ever again.  
"We need to tell the others, don't we?!" Wufei spoke after a while. It was more of a statement than a question.  
Treize nodded quietly.  
"I didn't hurt Quatre, did I?" the boy asked.  
"No, you didn't," the captain assured him. "I made sure that he was alright before I came here to see you."

***

The next morning Quatre went to see Rashid. The tall Arab opened the door of his room at the boy's knock.  
"My Prince, I didn't expect you."  
"I am not coming at a bad time, am I?" Quatre asked. 

Rashid shook his head, as he stepped aside to let the boy in. "I just finished my morning prayers. Please come in. I know this might be too much to asked, but I hope that you will be able to forgive me some day for what I have done."  
"Rashid," the blond youth sighed. "I'm very much aware, that you were only following my father's orders. I should have not acted toward you like I did earlier, and I apologize for that. But that's not the only reason I came. I also wanted to let you know that I'll accompany you back to Surabia."  
The tall man looked at Quatre in a mixture of surprise and delight.  
"But I have no intention of staying there. I'll go there only to meet my father and make my peace with him," the boy continued. "Then I'll return to the Sank Kingdom, because this is where I truly belong."  
Rashid nodded understandingly. "I suppose that's all I can ask for, my Prince."  
Quatre gave the man a wry grin. "I really did miss you, Rashid. All that time we spent together. I still remember the day you taught me to ride a horse."  
The tall man smiled. "So do I, Prince Quatre. I don't think I'll ever forget it, because I nearly died when you spurred you suddenly mount into a gallop and promptly were thrown out of the saddle."  
Quatre grinned sheepishly. "Good thing desert sand is very soft."  
"Do you remember the time your sisters talked you into climbing that palm tree?" Rashid asked.  
"I sure do. Getting up wasn't a problem. Coming down was. You had to come up and get me." Quatre laughed at the memory. "How are my sisters?"  
"They are doing well. Please believe me when I say that they have missed you very much."  
"I'm looking forward to seeing them again."  
  


***  
  


Treize walked Wufei to the wizard tower just as he did every morning before he stated his shift of duty. Only this time he didn't have to leave right away. He was going to accompany Princess Relena later, on a ride into town and was off duty for the time being.

Wufei let the door swing open and looked around the tower with a sigh. "I miss Quatre."  
Treize raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Already, he is only been gone for two weeks."  
"I know, but he really knew how to keep this place in order. I really got used to leaving things how they were and knowing that when I get back in the morning everything would be cleaned up."  
"Spoiled little wizard," the captain chided teasingly, as he stepped forward to pick up a handful of scrolls from the floor. "You shouldn't use Quatre as your personal servant."  
"I don't," Wufei insisted. "I never tell him that he had to clean up after me. He just does it."

"Well, since he isn't here. Perhaps I can help you a little."  
"Thank you. Just be careful that you don't turn yourself into something that has wings or fur all over its body. I like you the way you are."

Treize dropped the scrolled like they had turned into red-hot goal, and instinctively took a step back.

Wufei chuckled. "I'm only joking. There is nothing in here that's dangerous."  
Relieved, the captain walked over to the table and picked up a small vial filled with a clear bluish liquid. But the moment he touched the little bottle it erupted into a fireball, and Treize jumped back with a startled gasp.  
"Except for that bottle," Wufei remarked with a wry grin. "I almost forgot that Quatre and I were working on a formula for liquid fire.  It is quite impressive, isn't it?"  
Treize growled and gave the young Wizard a look that indicated that he couldn't agree with that.  
"You better clean up this mess on your own. I'll think twice before touching anything in this room again."  
"That's fine," Wufei shrugged. "I have my own method of tidying things up anyway."   
With a few mumbled words and gestures of his hands, books and scrolls began to move on their own, floating around the room and return to their original places in the shelves.

Treize shook his head. "You use magic for everything you do, don't you?"  
"Not for everything," the youth turned to him with a suggestive smile. "Would you like for me, to show you what I can do without magic?"

"Little tease." Treize growled.  
"Who is teasing?" Wufei put his arms around the captain's neck, and pulled him close as he captured the older man's mouth with his own.

Treize returned the kiss passionately. The boy's lips were so full and sweet. He let his tongue run over them. Wufei opened his mouth just far enough to allow the fleshy pink muscle to enter. The boy's hands moved to the front of Treize's uniform. His fingers started to fumble with the strings. He was dying to get his hands inside those clothes and feel his lover's hot skin under his palms.  
"Wufei," the captain objected, breaking the contact with the boy's lips. "We can't do this. Not now. You know that I have to escort the Princess soon."  
Wufei made a frustrated sound. "We still have enough time."  
He started to nibble on the nap of his lover's neck, sending little sparks of pleasure through Treize's body. He finally managed to free the captain's shirt from the pants and his hands slipped beneath it to stroke the soft skin of the older man's back.  
"I don't think…" Treize began, but his protest was cut short when the young wizard's fingers disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

"Ahhhh, Wufei," he gasped, as he felt the prickling sensation of blood pulsing toward his groin

Part of him still wanted to object. What if Relena decided to leave early? He didn't want to be caught with his pants down, literally. But he knew already that he was fighting a loosing battle, as his body began to respond heavily to the boy's tender caresses. His resistance melted like snow in sun, and he finally sighed:  
"At least lock the door, Wufei."  
"I'm already one step ahead of you," the young wizard whispered into his ear, as he cleared the table with a quick motion of his right hand. "Make that two steps."  
  


***  
  


Time passed quickly, and before anybody knew it six months had gone by since Quatre had left the Royal Palace.

Heero was spending several hours every day, very much to his frustration as well as the frustration of his tutors, with preparations for his duties in the royal court. Only now he started to fully understand what Milliardo had gone through; and the fact that his friend had done so with a smile on his face, drew his admiration.   
Compared to last year's event Relena's birthday was a rather quiet affair. The princess had invited Dorothy to visit her, and the two girls spent most of the day doing whatever it was young ladies their age did.

Winter came early and with more snow and ice than anybody had ever seen in the south of the kingdom. By the time the snow finally melted everybody in the palace felt restless.

The king was concerned about reports of increased Romefeller activity on the borders to the Sank Kingdom. Especially Alnwick County in the northeast, where the borders of the Romefeller Empire, Sank Kingdom and Welshyre Kingdom met, was dealing with an unusually high number of attacks. 

Stephán made the decision to travel to Alnwick and check out the situation there for himself. Captain Treize had been trying his hardest to convince the king not to take the trip.  
"Your Highness, I assure you it would be much safer if Heero, Wufei and I went to Alnwick. You should not get yourself into a position that puts you in the middle of a possible attack by Romefeller troops."  
"Captain, I really appreciate your concern, but my mind is made up. It's been a long time since I have been in the north and this trip will give me the opportunity to check up on several other counties on the way there. Besides, I believe Alnwick is a well-fortified castle. I'll be safe there."

_No doubt about that,_ Treize thought. _However, getting you there is what concerns me.  
_"If you think so, your Highness."  
"How long will you need to make preparations for the trip?"

"Give me three weeks, your Highness. We will need a lot of men and fresh horses for that long of a journey."  
"That sounds perfectly acceptable," the king agreed.

***

Treize scrutinized the people at the small table round who had come together to discuss the increased Romefeller attacks.

Aside from the king, Heero and himself, Lord Alnwick was present with his chief of security and a Captain named Ventuno, who was in charge of the troops.

Ventuno was a tall man with dark hair. He looked like somebody who didn't expect anything from his soldiers he wasn't willing to do himself. Treize was sure his men idolized him. Captain Bunt on the other hand had a somewhat unpleasant attitude; very much like another Chief of security he knew.

_Perhaps it comes with the job_, Treize thought sarcastically.

"I must say that I'm impressed with the way you have been handle those attacks so far," the king commended.  
"Thank you for the compliment, your Highness," Captain Ventuno answered modestly. "But to be honest, our troops do not deserve all the credit." 

"How so?"   
"We have been getting a little … or better a lot of help from a group of outlaws, calling themselves White Fang. They are raging their own little private war with the Romefeller Empire, and have been keeping their troops on their toes. In many cases they reach towns that are attacked quicker our own men. And I would say that's the true reason that our casualties amongst villagers are so low."  
"Captain Ventuno, you make it sound like they are heroes, when they instead are nothing else but bandits and criminals," Captain Bunt protested.  
"Please Captain, I'm not trying to glorify them. I'm only pointing out the facts. I think that you are just bitter, because the White Fang managed to get by your guards a few times and stole horses from under your nose."  
Bunt flushed dark red in embarrassment, and Treize had to fight hard to keep down a chuckle. The man reminded him so much of Captain Septm that he couldn't help but enjoy his unease.  
"Are you saying that they broke into the castle?" the king asked surprised. "That is quite a bold act. It seems like those people are either extremely brainless or extremely brave."

"I agree with Captain Bunt," Lord Alnwick remarked. "Those men are criminals. They steal my livestock and hunt unlawfully in my forests. They should be brought to justice. If your Highness would provide us with additional troops we can not only keep the border safe but also hunt down the White Fang."

"I doubt it will be that easy. The farmers and villagers feel loyal to them and will warn them or even hide them from us," Ventuno said. "Besides with three countries in such close proximity they will just slip forth and back over the border as they have been doing for the past few years."  
"Years?" Treize echoed in surprise. "How long has this been going on?"

"It started about 3 summers ago," Lord Alnwick informed. "But they didn't get as bold as to steal from us until last year."  
"Hn," Heero grunted. "A few deer and some horses seem a small price to pay, if they really protecting our villagers, I would say."  
"With all due respect, Lord Yuy…" Bunt objected.  
"Please," the king interrupted. "I think we should get back to the real reason for this meeting and discuss the White Fang later on."

***

After the meeting Treize arranged it that he and Captain Ventuno left together.   
"Can I talk to you for a moment, Captain?" he asked.  
"Sure. How can I help you?"

"I just was wondering if there was anything else we should know about that group you call White Fang? It seems somewhat strange that they would come and steal horses from inside the castle. Is there something you haven't been telling us?"  
"I'm not sure his Lordship would want me to talk about it," Ventuno answered apprehensively. "It is rather embarrassing."

"I don't care about his Lordships feeling embarrassed. What I'm concerned about the king's safety." Treize snapped.  
"I assure you, you have nothing to worry about in that regard. A handful of White Fang members, including their leader, deserted from his lordship's troops. But their ire is directed against Lord Alnwick and Captain Bunt, not against the king or the crown." 

_Nevertheless,_ Treize thought. _I'd better have Wufei strengthen his protective spells for the royal quarters.  
  
_

***

Still exhausted from the long journey to Alnwick, Relena had turned in early for the night.

He peaceful sleeping was unaware of the person slipping into her bedchamber in the middle of the night. The door opened and closed without a sound. For a few moments the tall figure stood next to her bed, watching her. The princess stirred and her eyelids fluttered. Suddenly she realized that she wasn't alone in the room, and her eyes few open. But before she was able to voice her shock, a hand was pressed over her mouth.

"Don't make a sound, Princess."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's notes:  
  


Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	13. The Making of Zechs Merquise part a

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Part 10a - The Making of Zechs Merquise

Relena couldn't see anything. Her abductor had blindfolded her before they left her bedchamber. She was still not sure how he had managed to get her out of the castle unnoticed. The night air was frigid, and since she was dressed only in her nightgown, she was glad that he had draped a blanket around her.  
Outside the castle her kidnapper had a horse waiting. He put her in the saddle in front of him and held her tightly. After a short ride they stopped. Relena heard noises and realized that they had met up with somebody as the other person spoke.  
"For God sake, you have finally lost you mind, haven't you? Do you have any idea who you have kidnapped?"  
The man in the saddle behind her let out a low chuckle, but it didn't really sound amused.   
"Believe me, I do. Ride ahead and meet with the others. Have them break camp. We will move out as soon as I return. If for any reason I'm not back by noon you will leave without me."  
"But…" the other man started to protest, but was cut off.  
"No arguments! Go now."

Relena could hear the sound of retreating hoof beat, as the other man rode off. Her kidnapper dismounted, then helped her to the ground. He removed the blindfold from her eyes, and she blinked at first, as she looked up at him. He was wearing a shiny silvery mask that was covering his face all the way down to his mouth. But she knew who he was even before he removed that mask. She had recognized his voice at the first word he spoke in her chamber.

"Milliardo!"  
Quicker then Relena could think, she was in his arms and hugged him tightly. 

"Princess," he whispered.

For the longest time they just stood there, holding each other. Relena couldn't fight back the tears and she sobbed, letting out all the grief and pain, all the anguish and hope she had kept inside her for too long. When she as done, she stood back to look at him. Then, without warning, she slapped him in his face as hard as she could.  
"May I ask what that was for?" her brother inquired, slightly confused, as he rubbed his burning cheek.

"That was for making us think that you were dead for all that time. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?"  
He lowered his gaze, as he spoke very softly: "Forgive me, Princess. It was never my intention to cause you, or anybody else, pain."

"Why Milliardo? I don't understand? How could you let us think that you were dead? What happened to you? Where have you been all this time?"

"That's why I needed to see you; I need to talk to you. But if you don't want to speak to me I'd understand. If you wish I will take you back to the castle right this moment."  
"I take it that you are not intending to return together with me?" she asked.

 He shook his head. "No, I don't. Do you want me to take you back?"  
"No," she answered. "I need to know what happened to you. I want you to tell me."  
"There is an old abandoned farm not far from here. Not much more than the barn remains, but it provides some shelter."  
It didn't take them long to reach the farm. Relena watched as her brother tethered his horse outside the barn. He hadn't spoken a word during the ride. He looked very different from the Milliardo she remembered; so much more serious. He had been still a boy when he had left, but over the past 18 months he had turned into a young man.  
They settled down on some bales of straw. He sighed, then finally spoke.  
"This is going to be a long story. I'll try to make it as short as possible. Soon they will notice in the castle that you're gone and knowing Heero and Treize they will be after me like the devil after a soul." He gave her a wry smile.

:::Begin of Flashback:::   (This flashback begins basically right where Part 7 left off)

Pain…Nausea…Cold… His entire world seemed to consist of nothing but those feelings. His head was hurting, his body stiff from the cold. Hands and feet were bound. He could feel the stickiness of blood, his own blood, beneath his body but was too weak to move away from it. Fighting fatigue and pain, he finally managed to raise his head and noticed that he was alone. The part of his brain that was still working told him that he needed to free himself if he wanted to survive. He struggled against his bounds, but realized soon it was of no avail. Darkness threatened again to overcome him and the thought of slipping back into the pain-free oblivion was a tempting one, although he knew that he would probably never wake up from it again. But he had reached a point where he really didn't care anymore and finally he stopped fighting and let the welcome darkness of unconsciousness submerge him.

***

Howard had been a soldier for most his life. He had been in more battles than he cared to remember. He had seen the Aotherian Kingdom, his homeland, crumble under the attack of Emperor Tubarov's invading army; had seen his men die to the hundreds in the battlefields. It was only thanks to his skill and experience that he and a handful of his men escaped the slaughter. They managed to stay alive by attacking small convoys of imperial soldiers and taking what they needed where they could find it. Surprisingly the band, calling themselves White Fang, not only survived but also grew. Some of the people that joined the group were runaway slaves; others came after their villages had been destroyed. And there were even a few ex-imperial soldiers who deserted their troops. Howard wasn't picky. Anybody who was willing to fight and pull his own weight was welcome. They were a bunch of people who had nothing to loose but their freedom, and had decided to take revenge on those who had taken everything else from them.   
The group had started moving camp regularly since it became increasingly difficult to hide such a large number of men and horses. Soon they would start to head west to reach the mountains in the northern regions of the Sank Kingdom before the first snowfall. The caves in the mountains would provide enough space and protection to wait out the winter.   
Howard was leading a small scouting team, consisting of four members. They had split up and were checking the surroundings of the area where the group had set up camp for the night.  
The noise of approaching hoofs made the gray-haired man snap around and reach for his sword at the same time. He relaxed when he recognized Hilde. The black-haired girl was one of his youngest followers. She could be a real hothead at times and was a little daring, but Howard knew her heart was at the right place. Hilde reined her mount to a hold next to Howard's horse.  
"Nichols and Rens found something they think you want to see, Sir."  
She turned and let the way to a small clearing, where they found Nichols standing next to Rens who was hunched over a third man lying on the ground. The gray-haired man dismounted and walked over to them. 

"We thought he was dead when we found him, but he is still alive, Captain. Barely if I might add." Rens explained.

The brunette had been part of Howard's troops, a promising young soldier who would have had a great career ahead of him under other circumstances. "I only moved him far enough to untie his arms and legs."  
"Hmmm…"Howard frowned as he stepped closer and let his gaze wander over the tall and slender figure on the ground. "He isn't one of our men and since he doesn't wear a uniform I assume he isn't one of theirs either."  
"What are we going to do with him, Captain?" Rens asked, looking up. It was out of respect as well as out of habit that he still addressed the older man by his rank.

"If you asked me I'd say we just put him out of his misery and safe ourselves some trouble." Nichols suggested coldly, his hand on the hilt of his weapon.

Hilde gave the man a deadly glare. "That's why nobody asks you," she spat. "Once again I ask myself why you actually left Tubarov's troops, since you seem to prefer their ways so much."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Nichols glared back at her.

The girl was about to reply something but Howard cut her off. "Enough!"

He crouched down next to the unconscious figure on the ground and pressed two fingers against the side of his neck. The young man's face and long blond hair was covered in dried blood and dirt. His breathing was shallow and his pulse faint and unsteady. Rens was right, he was barely alive.   
"Hilde, ride ahead and tell Catherine we are bringing an injured man. She should be prepared for head injuries, blood loss, most likely some broken bones and…" He shook his head and sighed, giving up on trying to assess all the injuries. "Just tell her he looks bad."

The girl nodded in acknowledgement, spurred her horse and galloped off.

Howard rose and looked around. The remains of a fire told him that somebody had camped here; most likely the same person who had beaten this young man to the brink of death and then just left him to die. The thought was disgusting.  
Meanwhile Rens had taken his sleeping roll and tied pieces of rope to all four corners. Nichols helped him securing it between two of their horses, creating a makeshift device that could carry the injured young man.

He moaned when they moved him onto the blanket.

"Just hang in there," Howard told him, checking once more for the young man's pulse. "Don't give up now, kid."

***

"Catherine, Catherine."   
A young woman with reddish brown hair looked up from what she was doing, as Hilde rode into camp screaming out her name.  
"Catherine, Howard is bringing in a wounded. They should be here soon."  
"A wounded, what happened?" the young healer asked alarmed. "Did you ran into a patrol?"  
The black-haired girl shook her head as she dismounted her horse. "He isn't one of our men. We found him along the way. Howard wants me to tell you he is in bad shape, in really bad shape if you asked me."  
Catherine nodded in acknowledgement, as she went to gather her healing things. 

"I'll need hot water," she told one of the men standing around.

By the time their leader and the rest of the scout team rode into camp, a large pot was heating over the fire. When she took a look at the unconscious young man they had brought with them, Catherine noticed at once the bruising and cuts around his wrists.  
"He was bound when we found him," Howard explained at her questioning look. "It seemed as if he had tried to free himself before he lost consciousness. Where do you want us to put him?"

The young healer determined that it would be best to bed him in one of the supply wagons. That way he wouldn't have to be moved when they broke camp in the morning. A makeshift bed of straw and blankets was the most comfort they could provide him with.  
"Hilde, get me some water," she ordered, as she knelt next to the young man and opened her basket. When the girl came back with a large bowl of warm water she started to clean the injured man up. Once the caked on dirt and blood was washed from his face she realized how young he actually was. He barely looked old enough to be called a man. His features were incredibly handsome. Even a large bruise over his right cheekbone and a swollen and split upper lip could not hide that fact. His long, pale-blond, hair was dirty and crusted with dried blood. As she checked to see where the blood had come from, she found a relatively minor laceration behind his left ear and then another larger wound on the right side of his head. The cut was wide and deep. She knew from experience that head injuries like that bled heavily. He probably had lost a lot of blood.

 She wondered how long he had been unconscious before Howard's scout group had discovered him.  
_Probably not longer than a day or two_, she thought. _I doubt that somebody in this condition can survive the frigate night temperatures for long.  
_When she carefully dabbed the dried blood and dirt from his head wounds he moaned slightly but didn't wake. 

Catherine took a jar of disinfecting salve from her basket and opened it. She spread the ointment generously around the gashes then wrapped his head in white linen bandages. Then she started cleaning his wrists. She was relieved to see that the cuts were only superficial. When she noticed some movement behind her Catherine turned to see Howard climbing into the wagon.  
"How is he?"  
"It's hard to tell yet?" the young woman answered. "It looks like he took a few rather hard blows to his head. – Can you help me get him undressed? I'm afraid the rest of his body doesn't look much better."

The gray-haired man nodded and helped her to ease the torn vest off the blond man's body. There was no way they could slip his tunic over his head without causing him more pain or even injuring him further. Howard pulled his dagger, cutting the front of the shirt, peeling the material back. What he found was uglier than he had expected. Catherine suppressed a gasp at the sheer number of bruises and lacerations on the young man's torso. She felt a wave of anger. Somebody had beaten this young man within an inch of death and then just left him to die. Or maybe the people who had done this to him had believed he was dead already when they left.

"For god sake," she whispered in shock and sympathy. "Why would anybody do something like this?"

Howard shrugged. He had seen a lot of death and destruction in his life and it didn't surprise him anymore to see how cruel humans could be.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked after a while.

 The young woman shook her head and smiled a little. "I don't think so. In fact the best help right now would be if you get out of my way and let me do my job."  
He nodded understandingly and climbed out of the wagon, waiting for her outside. When she was finally finished and joined him she looked tired. The older man gave her a questioning look.  
"Most of his wounds are not too critical and should heal pretty easy." She told him. "But I'm concerned about the injuries to his head. They look serious and I'm afraid he might just slip away without ever regaining consciousness."

The man nodded in silent acknowledgement. 

"Howard," she looked up at him. "What are we going to do with him? I mean, we don't know really anything about him. His garments are dirty and torn, but you can tell they are made from fine material. I have never seen pants made from such soft leather before. He is definitely not just a simple peasant and he seems barely old enough to be a soldier."  
"One thing is sure. We can't just leave him here. So we will take him with us and deal with anything that might arise later on. As you say yourself we can't even be sure he will survive. If he **does** wake up and we know who he is, we will decide what to do with him."

***

For a long time he drifted in and out of consciousness, half-aware only of people around him, gentle hands touching him, comforting words soothing his mind. When he finally fully awoke at first all he could feel was pain. Every bone and muscle in his body ached. Keeping his eyes tightly shut he prayed to sink back into the pain-free darkness of unconsciousness. But instead his other senses started to return. He realized that he was covered with a thick blanket. Next he noticed the ground under him was moving. Curiously he opened his eyes and found that the ceiling above him was made from tan-colored canvas, thin enough at some places to let sunlight shine through. Slowly he began to register other things around him. He heard the squeaking of wooden wheels along with the sounds of hoofs pounding dirt. Putting everything together he realized that he was traveling in a covered wagon. He tried to remember where he was, how he got here, but his brain wasn't cooperating. Trying to think made his headache even worst and he decided that he didn't want to deal with any more pain right now.  
He closed his eyes again and winced, as the wagon hit a hole in the road. When he lifted his hand, to move a few strands of damp, pale-blond hair out of his face, he made another curious discovery. His head was dressed in bandages and so was his wrist. He checked his other arm he noticed it too was wrapped.

Suddenly the movement stopped as the wagon came to a hold. He opened his eyes again and tried to sit up at the same time, but regretted it immediately when his head began to throb in protest and a wave of nausea hit him. With a moan he sunk back into the blanket-covered straw he was lying on, waiting for the vertigo to dissipate.  
Moments later a canvas covering in the back of the wagon was moved and a gray-haired man dressed in brown trousers and a beige colored tunic, climbed in. With a satisfied nod the man noticed that their guest was awake.

"How are you feeling?" Howard asked in a surprisingly soft and pleasant voice.   
"I have been better," the young man answered. He lifted his hand wipe some sweat from his forehead. "How…How did I get here?" he asked, surprised how weak his voice was. 

"One of my scouts found you. Somebody beat the hell out of you and left you for death. When we found you we brought you back to our camp." Howard told him. "Are you hungry, kid?"  
Without waiting for an answer the older man stuck his head out of the back of the wagon calling out.  
"Catherine, your patient has awoken. Bring him some food will you?"

"Where are we anyway?" the young man asked, as Howard turned back toward him.  
"A good 100 miles west of Landsbourgh," the old man told him. "We should leave the Romefeller Empire and cross into the North Sank Kingdom by tomorrow."  
"Sank Kingdom," the blond echoed thoughtfully, as though it was something significant. He knew he had heard those words before, but wasn't sure when or under what circumstances.   
The canvas in the back of the wagon moved again and a young woman with shoulder-long reddish-brown hair entered with a bowl of steaming food in her hand. At the delicious smell his stomach reminded him with an angry growl that it had been neglected for quite a while.  
"Sounds to me like you are hungry, that's a good sign," she said with an amused smile. "It's only vegetable soup, but it has proven to be all you have been able to keep down so far."  
He gave her a questioning look. "How long have I been here?"

"It has been 4 weeks to the day. You were unconscious most of the time but I was able to feed you a little soup and some of my herbs during that time."  
The young man tried to push himself up into a sitting position. Howard moved forward to offer support, but the blond quickly held up his hand to stop him. "Please don't, I can do it myself."   
The older man nodded understandingly.   
Only when he was sitting upright and the blanket slipped from around his chest he noticed that he was wearing little more than those bandages around his head and his ribs and for a moment that made him feel rather uneasy. 

"Sorry, but we had to undress you to take care of your wounds," the girl explained as if reading his mind. "I got your pants cleaned and fixed, but I'm afraid your tunic was a lost cause. Howard do you think you can find a shirt that will fit him?"  
The gray-haired man nodded. "I'll see to it later."  
When the young man reached out for the bowl of soup Catherine shook her head. "I think it might be better if I give you a hand with that. We wouldn't want to add scalding to your long list of injuries now, would we?" The way she gave him a smile and a small wink made his unease dissipate somewhat. She held the bowl to his lips allowing him to take small sips of the broth.

"You are mercenaries?" he asked once he had emptied the bowl.  
She smirked and exchanged a look with the gray-haired man. "I suppose in a certain way we are. This is Howard our leader and I'm Catherine. And who might you be?"  
He opened his mouth to answer, then frowned and looked at the girl for a moment before he his gaze and shook his head slightly. "I don't… don't remember."  
Catherine and Howard exchanged another quick look. "Do you remember what happened to you? Who beat you? Anything?" the gray-haired man asked.

The young man shook his head again as he eased himself back onto his makeshift bed.   
"Hmmm…" Catherine frowned. "I have heard of people loosing their memory after injuries to their head. I suppose you will remember in time. For now all we should worry about getting you back on your feet."  
  


***

Catherine noticed with satisfaction that her patient was sitting up, when she climbed into the wagon. Since he had regained consciousness nearly three days ago his condition had improved considerably. He seemed stable, was eating on his own now and slowly the color started to return into his pale cheeks.  
The tunic Howard had given him fit almost perfectly and the color brought out the blue of his magnificent eyes. She had taken off the bandages around his head the other day and with his long hair framing his perfectly shaped face he looked like the statue of a god.  
"How are we doing today?" she asked with a smile. "Remember anything yet?"  
He shook his head. No, he still had no memories of what had happened, only nightmares. But he wasn't willing to share those with anyone.  
"I brought you your tea. It seems to be helping. You look much better." She handed him a cup with the steaming hot beverage. "I know it tastes like hell. My mother used to tell me that in order to work properly medicine **has** to taste bad. But I'll see if I can get Howard to acquire some honey so I can sweeten it a little."  
"Please don't trouble yourself for my sake," he told her, before he took a sip from the tea. "I'm grateful for everything you and Howard have already done for me and I'm more than happy with anything you can provide."  
She gave him another smile. "I'm sure it won't be any trouble.  How is your head?"  
"It is getting better. I can sit up without getting dizzy and when I move slowly it barely hurts anymore," he answered.  
"That's good to hear. But you shouldn't be moving too much yet," he warned him. "I think I'll bring you something more substantial than soup for supper. Once we get your strength back up you should be on your feet in no time at all."  
"I have been thinking…" After all that was all he really could do at the moment. "I'll need some kind of name till I remember my real one."  
"Yeah, that would be helpful," Catherine agreed. "Unless you want the rest of us call you "Kid" like Howard does."  
"I'd prefer not," he answered with a ghost of a smile. "What about Zechs?"  
"Zechs?!" she echoed with a questioning look. Since he didn't seem inclined to give an explanation she just continued. "That sounds nice."

***

Catherine had been right. Physically, he recovered rather quickly. His broken ribs were still healing, but all bruises and marks on his body had faded away. Mentally, however it didn't go quite as well. At times it frustrated him extremely that he still couldn't remember his past, but then there came moments when he wasn't sure if he really wanted to remember. His nightmares frightened him, since he wasn't sure how much of them were based on reality and how much was pure imagination. When he woke up he pushed them out of his mind, unwilling to deal with them.

It did not take him long to realize that the word "Mercenaries" didn't quite fit Howard and his followers. Outlaws or bandits would be more precise. They called themselves "White Fang." But no matter if he agreed with their way of living or not, Zechs didn't feel that it was his place to pass judgement. These people had saved his life. They had cared for him and given him a place to stay when he had nowhere else to go. They deserved nothing but his utter most respect and gratitude.  
It seemed that everybody in the group was helping out around the camp. Although nobody ever asked him or told him that he had to do anything, Zechs did his best to do his part too. It wasn't easy but he was a fast learner and he adapted quickly to the harsh life in the woods and on the road. The band managed to reach the high country before the first winter storm. The mountain caves were spacious enough to comfortable house an entire army. Once ice and snow made the roads impassible the group was trapped in the higher elevations, but at the same time also safe from attacks. Until spring came they had to live on the supplies they had brought with them and on what the forest had to offer.

After a day of hunting Zechs and Rens returned to the camp, their packhorses loaded with game.  
"Courtesy of Lord Alnwick," the dark-haired man announced mirthfully, as he dumped two large deer from one of the horses.  
"Let me guess, Rens. The animals were sleeping when you shot them, or did you in fact manage to hit a moving target?" Nichols remarked scoffing.  
"Actually, Zechs shot them." Rens answered calmly. "One arrow each. I've never seen you do that."  
"So what?" Nichols snorted. "Everybody gets lucky sometimes."  
Zechs glared at the man without saying a word. He didn't like Nichols and by the way the man looked back at him he could tell the feeling was mutual. He walked off into one of caves that served as a stable to feed and water his mount. Once he had taken care of the horse he went down to the nearby stream to fetch a couple buckets of water. He grimaced at the pain in his ribs as he crouched down by the water's edge. The bones were still sore. He braced his ribs with his hand he willed himself back onto his feet.

Sure, he could go to Catherine and asked her for something to ease the pain, but that would confirm that she was right when she told him that he wasn't fully healed yet and should take it easy. He was too proud and too stubborn to admit that. Leaning against a tree he waited for the pain to dissipate.

***

Hilde was outside collecting wood when she saw Zechs down by the stream. The young girl stopped to watch him for a moment. She wasn't sure what to make of the young man. There was something about him that distinguished him from the rest of them. It wasn't only his looks, but how he carried himself. She had seen people, like Nichols, trying to pretend to be of noble blood. But to Zechs on the other hand it seemed natural. He couldn't hide it. The way he walked, the way he spoke left no doubt that he was of noble breeding and upbringing. He always had this overly polite manner to him. Yet at the same time he seemed distant and sometimes even cold. He kept mostly to himself and aside from Rens, barely socialized with anybody in the group. He didn't like Nichols, so much was clear, but then who actually did? There was something definitely mysterious about this young man. Who was he and what was his story anyway? How did he end up where they had found him?   
Zechs had filled the buckets and leaned against a tree. By the way he braced his ribs with one hand Hilde could tell he was hurting.  
"Need some help?" she asked, as she walked closer.  
Zechs turned toward her.  
"I do appreciate the offer, but I can handle it," he declined in his usually polite way.  
"Fine, suit yourself." The girl scowled at him. "I'm just trying to be friendly, you know." She was about to turn and walk away, but Zechs stopped her.  
 "May I ask you something? Have I done anything to anger you, or do you always react so defensively toward everybody?" 

"Me, defensive?" she snorted. "If I remember right **I** was the one who offered help to you, and you were the one who declined it."  
Zechs blinked. "And that offended you?"  
"It's not only that," Hilde answered, crossing her arms in front of her. "You know it wouldn't hurt you to be a little friendlier, to join the rest of us every once in a while and stop treating us like we aren't worth your time."  
"What? You believe, that's how I think about you?"  
"Why else do you always keep to yourself? You even sit and eat by yourself," she snapped.  
"Simply because nobody ever invided me to join you. I don't like to intrude where I'm not welcome,"

Hilde could hear a tinge of hurt in his voice and suddenly felt embarrassed. The girl grinned wryly. "I'm sorry about that. I suppose I should use my brain before I use my mouth more often. And maybe you are right; I do get a little too defensive too quickly. You suppose we could just start over fresh? - My name is Hilde, I'm pleased to meet you." She offered Zechs her hand, expecting him to shake it, but was surprised when he bowed and placed a soft kiss onto her fingers, his lips barely touching her skin.

"The pleasure is mine," he told her with a ghost of a smile and she blushed.  
"I have been wondering how you ended up here," he asked suddenly. "I mean you are rather young for a…how should I put it…warrior."  
A trace of sadness fell over her face, and Zechs regretted instantly that he had asked. "You know, you do not have to tell me if you don't want to talk about it."   
But she shook her head. "It's just fine.  Tubarov's army attacked our town. Before they came most of the villagers hid in a cave in the mountains. But eventually the soldiers found us. The men were able to hold them off for a little while. The smaller kids and I were able to crawl through a hole in the wall and hide in a neighboring cave. But there was no way out so we could only sit there and pray that they didn't find us, all the while hearing the screams of the people killed by the soldiers. After what seemed forever the screaming stopped but we were too afraid to look if the soldiers were gone. So we waited till hunger and thirst finally made us leave our hiding place. That's when we ran into Howard and his men. They fed us and took us to the orphanage of the Saint Gabriella nunnery. The other kids stayed there, but I told Howard that I wanted to go with him. At first he didn't want to hear anything of it. But when I told him that I would go and fight on my own he agreed to let me stay."  
Zechs had grown quiet, wondering once again if he was better off not remembering at all. There was outrage, sadness and shock in his ice blue eyes when he finally said. "Forgive me for stirring up such painful memories."  
"Don't worry about it." She answered quietly, then changed the subject. "So, Catherine told me you don't remember your past. You might have been a soldier? A knight perhaps? No you're probably too young for that, a squire more likely."  
Zechs shrugged. "It's possible. I do seem to remember how to use a weapon more than anything else. And sometimes I have dreams…nightmares…about fighting, a battle. Sometimes it feels so real I can still smell the blood."  
"Is that all you dream about?"  
"Sometimes I dream of people. Faces aren't always clear. There is a girl I see more often than others. She has long blond hair." There was a trace of a smile on his lips. "She is a young lady more than a girl really."  
"She must have been important to you, I suppose. Your lover or fiancée perhaps?" Hilde guessed.  
His smile deepened then grew into a smirk. "If she was, I definitely have good taste in women. I Believe that I must have lived somewhere further south, much further south."  
The girl frowned. "Why is that?"  
"I don't remember it ever being this cold."  
Hilde laughed. "Yeah, we should go inside. Let me give you a hand with the water. You know Zechs, it has noting to do with weakness to accept a friend's help, but it is rather foolish to decline it."  
"I'll try to remember that."  
  


***

When Zechs' eyes fell upon the majestic white walls of Alnwick Castle he knew immediately that his decision to come here had been the right one. It was such a strangely familiar feeling as he crossed the large wooden drawbridge and headed toward the castle's outer gate.  
After his wounds had fully healed Howard had offered him to stay with the White Fang as long as he wanted, and Zechs had told him he would think about it. By the time spring came around, and the group prepared to head southeast into Romefeller territory again he had made up his mind.   
  


:::: Begin of Flashback::::

"You are sure this is what you want to do?" Howard asked, and gave him a piercing look.  
Zechs, who was riding along the gray-haired man, nodded. "Yes, I am. I know I'm greatly in your debt for saving my life and taking care of me. And I do have all intention to come back some day and repay that debt. But for now I feel it is better for me to leave. I need to find out more about my past before I can concentrate on my future."  
Howard nodded understandingly. "You are probably right, Zechs. Living amongst town-folks near the castle might trigger memories in you.  I do hate to loose you; that much I have to admit. But I won't force you to stay. If you wish to leave I'll provide you with a mount and a weapon, and hope to see you again soon."  
:::: End Flashback::::

  
Zechs had spent several days in town. A small room in the local inn, food for himself and a place for his mount was all he could afford till he was able to find a way to earn a living. But finding a job was easier said then done for somebody with little experience.  
When he had learned from the inn's keeper that Lord Alnwick was recruiting men for his troops, Zechs thought that this might be a god-given opportunity for him. It was definitely something worth checking out.

He reined his horse to a stop next to one of the guards at the gate.  
"Where do I go to sign up as a new recruit for his Lordship's troops?" he asked. The man pointed him into the direction. Zechs thanked him and rode on.   
The recruitment officer looked him over in a scrutinizing manner, after he stated what he had come for. Then the man nodded, obviously satisfied with what he saw and asked.  
"What's your name?"  
"Zechs Merquise, Sir."  
The man nodded again, put his name down on a list and called for one of his assistants.

"Toar will show you to your quarter. Captain Ventuno will evaluate all the new recruits tomorrow morning and make his final decision," the soldier told Zechs. "But I wouldn't worry if I was you. They usually take whatever they can get."

The room he was taken to was a large crew quarter that he was going to share it with a number of other soldiers. Not that Zechs expected anything else, but he knew nevertheless that it would take some getting used to. For the rest of the day there was not much to do for the new recruits. Most of them spent the time getting acquainted with each other, talking and playing cards. 

 The next morning they met the Captain in charge of the troops at the training grounds. He was a tall man with eyes as cold and piercing as a steel blade.  
"I'm Captain Ventuno," he announced. "I'll teach you how to fight and how to survive. If you think you know better than I, than all I can teach you is how to die." After his introduction the captain paired the new recruits up to evaluate their skills in sword fight. Zechs was dueling with a young man with short brown hair.  
"You must fight better, recruit Walker," the captain addressed Zechs' opponent. "His Lordship will be investing lot of time and funds in your training. If you go into battle he expects you to survive and come back."  
"I understand, Sir. I'll try to do better," Walker answered.  
"Don't try. Just **do** better. Fools die trying." Ventuno turned toward Zechs. "Merquise, who taught you to use a sword like that? Your skill indicates a lot of training."  
"I'm not sure, Sir," the young man answered.  
The Captain gave him a look that might have made a lesser man cringe and snapped in exasperation. "What kind of an answer is that, Recruit?"  
"An honest one, Sir. I do not remember who taught me to fight. I was badly injured last fall and I don't have much memories of what happened before that time."  
Ventuno gave him another look, then he nodded. "I see. Nevertheless, you show a lot of expertise. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

For the next three months Zechs went through a hell of drills, tactical training and more drills. Some of the lessons were not much to his liking, others suited him just fine. Obedience, discipline and loyalty were drilled into them at all times.  Zechs loved to fight and he hated to lose. Every sparring match was a battle he intended to win, and more often than not he did so. Captain Ventuno, true to his word kept a close eye on the recruit's progress. He could tell a good soldier when he saw one and this young man seemed to have everything it took. Ventuno was convinced that he would make his way up to the top quickly. On a few occasions the captain tried to bring Zechs to Lord Alnwick's attention, but his Lordship was too busy with "more important" issues to be bothered with it. His usual answer was:  
"Captain, I trust your judgement fully. If you think that young man's weapons skills are extraordinary I don't have to see it for myself to believe you."  
But it was really nothing else but a polite way of saying: "Why in the world would you think I want to be bothered with that kind of stuff? That's why I'm paying you, to take care of such things."

__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  


T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	14. The Making of Zechs Merquise part b

Part 10b – The Making of Zechs Merquise

Soon after he completed his basic training Zechs was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant and was put in charge of a small patrol unit. Several of the soldiers under his command had gone through training together with him, so it was not surprising that he formed a rather close friendship with them, especially with Walker.

The four young men usually spend their off-duty evenings at the village inn, drinking a few goblets of wine and playing cards.  
Zechs was on his way to join his friends at the tavern, and decided to take a stroll through the marketplace on the way there. He wasn't really planning to buy anything particular. He was just looking around and enjoying the feeling of being amongst people.

The young soldier made his way through the crowd, when his eyes caught a familiar face across the road.   
"Hilde?!" he called out.  
The black-haired girl turned toward him. The expression of surprise on her face turned to delight when she recognized him. For a moment it looked like she was going to hug him, but then she just seize him by his shoulders, and took a step back so she could get a better look at him.

"Zechs Merquise!" she exclaimed." I'll be damned. Look at you, all dressed up in that fancy uniform. Seems to me things have gone well for you since you left."

Zechs nodded. "I suppose you could say that."

He placed a hand on her arm and he pulled her aside where they could talk more privately. "What are you doing here in Levingtown?"  
"Shopping." Hilde pointed at her basket. "I had to get my horse shoed and Catherine needed some healing supplies. So here I am. I would have never guessed that I would meet you here. I'm sure the others will be glad to hear that you are doing well, Zechs."  
"Do you have time for a drink?" the young man asked. "Perhaps we can talk a little. I would love to know what happened to you and the others since I left."  
"That sounds like a great idea." she agreed.  
The tavern was just around the corner. As Zechs led the girl to a table in the far corner of the room, they walked past where his friends were sitting. He ignored their questioning looks and settled down on one of the wooden benches. 

Sarina, the serving maid, walked over to their table with a pitcher of wine and goblets. "Good evening, Lieutenant Zechs. Can I get you or your lady something to eat?"

Zechs shook his head. "No, I think we are fine for the moment."

The two of them sipped their wine and talked, or better Hilde did most of the talking while Zechs listened. He was glad to hear that Howard, Catherine and the others were doing well. After all, he considered them the closest thing to family he had right now.

"How is the food here?" Hilde asked after a while.  
" The stew is quite tasty, but their roast is the best I have ever eaten," Zechs replied, as he gestured for Sarina to come to the table.  
"I think we are ready for supper now."

The young woman nodded. "The usual, Lieutenant Zechs?" 

"No, bring us two servings of your best roast, fresh bread and another pitcher of wine. Put it on my tap."

"Zechs, that isn't necessary," Hilde protested. "You don't have to pay for my food.  
"I insist," Zechs told her.

"Thank you."  
"My pleasure."   
"Perhaps I should go and check on my horse, while we are waiting for the food," Hilde suggested as Sarina had left. "I will tell the Blacksmith the other shoes too in case he is finished with his work before I return."  
"Very well, I'll be waiting here," Zechs agreed.  
He watched as she left, and poured himself another glass of wine.

Walker walked over to Zechs' table and took a seat across from him. "Isn't she a little young for you?" he asked with a gesture toward the door though which Hilde had walked out.  
Zechs gave his friend an annoyed look. "She is an old friend I have not seen for a while and nothing more. Get your head out of the gutter, Walker."

The other man laughed. "In that case perhaps you can introduce her to me."  
"Forget it. She is too young for you too."  
"I don't think I have ever seen her around here. I would remember that face."  
"She is not from this area," Zechs replied evasively.

He was glad that Walker was satisfied with that answer. He hated the thought of having to lie to his friends, but it wasn't that he could tell them the truth either. Although Lord Alnwick's troops had never clashed with the White Fang, the group was considered a band of outlaws, and their members wanted for. As pleased as Zechs was about meeting Hilde, it concerned him at the same time. If she was here in town, it could only mean that the rest of the group was somewhere in the vicinity as well. He was afraid that the day might come when he and his men were ordered to fight the White Fang, and he would be forced to choose between his loyalty to his lordship or his gratitude toward the people who saved his life.

When Sarina brought them their food; two large cuts of roast and a basket with warm bread, Hilde hadn't returned yet. The meal smelled delicious, but Zechs, being the gentleman he was, decided to wait for the girl.

As time passed by he begun to wonder what was taking Hilde so long. It was only a short way to the smithy.

Zechs rose from the table. He told Sarina that he would be back shortly and left to look for Hilde.

By now the sun had set and the previously crowded market place was almost empty. For a moment Zechs wondered if the girl might have just left, but that didn't seem to make any sense. And when he learned that her mount was still at the smithy he really started to get concerned.   
As he walked back to the tavern he heard some muffled sounds from one of the side alleys, then Hilde's familiar voice: "I said take your hands off me."  
Alarmed, Zechs followed the noises, and when he rounded the corner he saw the girl struggle in the hold of a young man in a castle guard's uniform. The soldier was holding her by her arms and tried to pin her against the wall behind her.

"Just hold still you stupid little whore," he growled.  
Zechs recognized the man instantly. He was only slightly older Zechs. His name was Cehn Bunt. He was a Commander in charge of his Lordship's personal guards. Rumor had it that he got that rank and position only because his father was the head of the castle security. 

"Hey," Zechs called out to him. "She told you not to touch her?"  
Bunt glared at him, annoyed about the interruption, without letting go of the girl's wrists. "What is it too you, Lieutenant? Do yourself a favor and keep out of this."  
"Let her go," Zechs warned, dangerously low.

The other man chose to ignore him.  
Hilde used the moment of distraction to jerk up her knee and kick the man where it hurt. Bunt screamed out in fury and pain. He lifted his hand to hit her, but Zechs was already beside him. With his left arm the blond blocked Cehn's strike, while his right fist connected with the commander's face. The impact threw the man to the ground.

Bunt struggled back to his feet, both hands pressed over his bleeding nose. "You broke my nose, you bastard," he shouted.  
"I recommend that you leave now, before I break a few other parts of yours," Zechs suggested coldly, his face a mask of perfect calm.  
Cehn glared at him, but turned and started to walk away. "You are going to regret this, Zechs Merquise," he yelled once he was far enough to deem it save. "This is not the end of it, I promise."  
Zechs ignored the man and turned toward Hilde who was leaning again the wall. "Are you hurt?" he asked concerned.  
She shook her head. "No, just a little shaken, I suppose. You came at just the right moment. Thank you, Zechs."  
"Think nothing of it," Zechs answered. "Let's get back to the tavern."  
Hilde shook her head. "I believe it would be better if I leave. But what about you? His threat sounded serious. I really hope you don't get in any kind of trouble because of me."  
"Don't worry about it. You didn't cause this incident. He did. I doubt he will add to his embarrassment by telling anybody about his little misadventure. Besides, he was the one who did wrong."  
After he walked the girl to the smithy to retrieve her horse, and made sure that she safely left town, Zechs went back to the tavern. 

Sarina asked if he wanted her to heat up the roast, but he just told her to take it away. Suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. He took his wine and walked over to the table where Walker, Bryn and Laine were sitting. When they asked him what was wrong Zechs told them what had happened.  
"That bastard," Bryn exclaimed in a mixture of fury and disgust. "You would think his father had brought him up better than that."  
Zechs could hear the tavern door open, but since he was sitting with his back toward it, he couldn't see who entered. The expression on Walkers face however made him turn his head to face a quartet of castle guards.  
"Lieutenant Zechs," one of them addressed him. "We have order to put you under arrest. I suggest that you don't resist."  
  


***

After he spent the rest of the night in a cell in the dungeon, Zechs was taken before his commanding officer.

"Would you care to tell me what prompted you to assault a superior officer, Lieutenant?" Captain Ventuno asked him.

"As you wish, Sir." Zechs nodded.

He told the captain what happened the night before, leaving out nothing but the fact how Hilde and he knew each other. He expected nothing less than to be cleared of any wrong doings and released, but he was in for a surprise.

Captain Ventuno's face was a blank mask when he told Zechs. "The commander's story varies from yours in several points. According to him he was talking to a girl, a girl you had spent some time with earlier the evening, when you showed up and attacked him in a fit of jealous rage."  
"Sir," Zechs protested. "You should know me better than that. I would never…"  
"Nevertheless," the captain cut him off. "That's what he said. It's his word against yours. And he is filing charges against you for assaulting him."  
"I supposed it will be up to Lord Alnwick then to pass judgement in this case. I'm sure he will see that I my action was more than warranted."  
"His Lordship already made it perfectly clear that there will not get involved in this matter. He is not planning to waste his time on this."

"Excuse me?" Zechs frowned. 

Being a lord under the crown came with certain obligations and one of them was to keep peace and justice amongst his subjects. "But isn't it his Lordship's responsibility to decide over feuds like this?"

Ventuno's eyes narrowed for a moment. "Do you want to tell his Lordship what his duties are, Lieutenant?"  
Zechs swallowed hard. "No Sir, of course not. I just…"  
"Captain Bunt thinks that both, you and his son might have had a little too much to drink last night. He is willing to drop the issue if you publicly admit to your mistake and apologize."  
"My mistake? Sir, I told you what happened."  
"And I told you that it will be your word against Commander Bunt's," the captain answered.

"And somehow it appears to me his word is taken more serious than mine," Zechs replied bitter. "That seems hardly fair."  
 Ventuno laughed, but it didn't sound very amused. "Wake up, Zechs. Life isn't fair, especially not if you are not the son of an influential father. I know that might be hard to accept, but its reality. Take Bunt's offer and you will probably loose a month' pay and that's it. Be a fool and loose your rank and your command. So, do yourself a favor and apologize."  
"I will not do such a thing," Zechs responded resolute. "How can you even suggest it?" There was a furious sparkle in his eyes and his fists clenched in anger.   
The captain sighed. "Don't do this to yourself, Zechs. I know you are a spirited young man. But this is a battle you can not win."  
"Then at least I'll lose with dignity," The young soldier replied, with his head up high in defiance.  
Ventuno sighed inwardly. For some reason he had expected nothing less from Zechs. He called in the guards to take the Lieutenant back to his cell. 

"Think about it, Lieutenant." He urged the young man before they left. 

***

When Captain Ventuno asked to speak to Lord Alnwick he had hoped that it would be a private meeting. He had not expected Captain Bunt to be present as well.

"Captain I suppose you are here because of Lieutenant Zechs?" the lord asked.  
Ventuno nodded. "That's correct. I would like you to reconsider his punishment." With a look in Bunts direction he took a deep breath. "Quite frankly, I do believe him."  
Bunt's face went dark. "Are you saying my son is lying?" he spat.  
"Perhaps he is just twisting the truth a little, Sir. Zechs Merquise is an honorable man. He wouldn't attack somebody without a reason. Besides, if he really wanted to hurt your son I'm sure he would have given Cehn more than just a broken nose."

"With all due respect, Captain Ventuno," Lord Alnwick intervened. "You have been taking a special interest in that young man since the day he arrived at the castle. I'm sure you have your reasons. But don't you think your judgement might be a little clouded?  Besides there is no question at all, that Zechs attacked and struck Commander Bunt. He admitted that much himself. And there is also no question that he should be disciplined for that if we don't want to encourage fights amongst our men."  
"Disciplined perhaps, my Lord, but I think the punishment doesn't fit the crime. Zechs is a good soldier and an excellent leader. He will be hard to replace as head of his patrol group."  
"I'll consider that when making my final decision about his punishment, Captain?" the lord said. "Unless there is anything else you are dismissed."

***

Zechs found it hard enough to believe that he was going to be demoted and loose command of his patrol unit for doing, what he considered, the right thing. But what really shocked him was the fact, that his punishment also included a public flogging.  
_So much for losing with dignity_, he thought bitter. _How perfectly humiliating_.   
He managed to keep his face blank, as he was led into the yard by two guards. Calmly he took off his uniform top and shirt and allowed the guards to tie his arms above his head to the whipping post. 

"Consider yourself lucky, Merquise" one of the soldiers told him, as he moved Zechs' long pale blond hair out of the way. "The initial sentence was 50 lashes, your Captain got it reduced to 30."  
"Am I supposed to show some kind of gratitude for that?" Zechs asked coldly. 

Just when he started to wonder who was going to execute the punishment, Cehn Bunt appeared with a coiled up leather whip in his hand, a sadistic gleam in his eyes, and a nose two sizes too big for his face.  
"You have no idea how glad I am that you didn't accept my fathers offer, and gave me the opportunity to do this. But then again, maybe I shouldn't have been surprised about it. Zechs Merquise, always a man of honor." Cehn taunted. "But let me tell you something, Zechs. Honor is highly overrated."

Zechs stared straight ahead, not even dignifying the remark with an answer. He had never been flogged before in his life. Although he wasn't exactly sure what to expect he knew it was going to be bad. 

"Because of you I missed out on some fun last night. But I think I'll enjoy this almost as much." Cehn told him with an evil smile on his face.

The man unfurled the whip and let it crack in mid-air just for the effect. The first time the whip actually crashed against Zechs' bare back it left an angry red welt without breaking the skin. It came down again, crossing the first mark, and Zechs bit down on his lip trying not to cry out. 

"Come on, let us hear your voice," Cehn sneered. "It's not nearly as much fun if you don't scream."  
Zechs pressed his teeth into his lip till he tasted blood, but he didn't make a sound as the whip left another dark red mark on his back. He wasn't going to give his tormentor that kind of satisfaction.

Cehn was skilled in what he was doing. Soon Zechs could feel blood run down his back. Cehn grinned viciously as he raised his arm again. The following strikes, skillfully aimed, landed where the skin had already broken. Zechs felt his knees give away as the leather of the whip connected with the raw flesh of an open wound, and it took all his resolve and willpower not to scream. He had lost count of the strikes and could only pray that it would be over soon. Eventually the pain became just too much to bear. Zechs was almost grateful when he felt the dark wave of unconsciousness wash over him.

***

He came to face down on his bunk in the troop quarter, with something cold and soothing covering his throbbing back.   
"Lay still," Walker's voice reached him, as he began to stir. 

Zechs hissed when his friend replaced the wet cloth.  
"Sorry, Zechs," the man apologized, "but there is no easy way to do this."  
"What are you doing here anyway?" the blond asked. "Shouldn't you be out on patrol?"  
"The Captain told me to stay here with you," Walker answered. "To make sure you don't do anything foolish when you wake up."  
"Something foolish?" Zechs echoed. "Like what?"  
Walker shrugged. "Like breaking Cehn's neck I suppose. But seriously, you need to take it easy, Zechs. He worked you over good. Be glad you can't see your back. I'm going to the healer and get you something for the pain. Promise me not to try to get up while I'm gone."  
Zechs nodded. Considering how much he was hurting it was a promise easy to be made.

Walker wasn't gone for long. He came back with a mug filled with some kind of steaming brew.   
"What is it?" Zechs asked as he eased himself up and swung his feet over the edge of the bunk.   
"I'm not sure," Walker shrugged. "It will lessen the pain and make you sleep. At least that's what the healer said."

The blond emptied the cup slowly He could feel the tranquilizing effects of the tea almost instantly. He fell into restless, dream and nightmare filled, sleep only moments after he stretched out on his bed.

_The little boy lying over his father's knees let out a small sound of pain as a large hand landed heavily on his bare backside. _

_"Milliardo I want you to know that you are not being punished for playing in the bell tower without permission, but because you lied about it. Dishonesty is something I can not and will not tolerate." The man's voice was firm, but without any indication of anger. "A man of honor always takes responsibility for his actions. Anything else would be cowardly. Do you understand me?"_

He swallowed hard as the hand stuck him again, leaving another red mark. The boy was determined not to cry, but he couldn't suppress the tremor in his voice when he answered.  
"Yes Sir."

_The boy turned his head to look up at his father, but found himself staring into the scornfully ginning face of Cehn Bunt.  
"Honor and honesty are highly overrated, Zechs. Look where they have gotten you."_  
  


Zechs woke up sweat drenched but didn't open his eyes. For a while he just lay there reflecting on his dream/ nightmare. He knew that the dream wasn't entirely a product of his imagination. At least part of it was made up of memories. Like the sound of his father's voice, his name. His name was Milliardo, wasn't it? The pieces of his past had slowly begun to fall into place, but Zechs knew he still had a long way to go.  
  
The Captain had given him three days off so that he could recover, but Zechs didn't take that long. The very next night while everybody else was sleeping he packed up what little belongings he had, and prepared to leave. In the stable, when he was saddling his mount he was confronted by Captain Ventuno.  
"Where do you think you are going, Lieutenant? You have no permission to leave the castle grounds."  
"I do not care about permissions. I don't take orders from anybody in this castle anymore. I'm leaving." Zechs answered calmly.  
"That would be desertion. You could get yourself court-martialed for it. You swore an oath of allegiance to his Lordship."  
"I also swore to protect those who can not protect themselves," Zechs shot back. "And now, with all due respect Captain, get out of my way or I'll go through you."

For a moment it looked like Ventuno was going to try to stop the young soldier, but then he just stepped out of the way.

Zechs left Alnwick castle behind him and spurred his mount into a light trot. It wasn't very long until he noticed that he was being followed. He frowned and slowed down. He was somewhat relieved when he recognized Walker, Bryn and Laine. Zechs allowed the three men to catch up with him.  
"If Ventuno sent you to take me back let me warn you. It won't happen without a fight," he told them, his hand on the haft of his sword.  
"Take it easy Zechs. Nobody sent us," Bryn assured him. "We are going with you."  
Zechs' frown deepened. "You shouldn't get yourself involved in this. You are better off turning around while you still can."

"Wrong, Zechs. We promised that we would stick together no matter what, or have you already forgotten about that?"

Of course he hadn't, but back when they made that promise to each other a situation like this had never crossed his mind. 

"You are not coming with me." His voice didn't leave any room for argument.  
"Say's who?" Walker asked. "You seem to forget something Zechs. You are not our commanding officer anymore. We don't have to take orders from you no more."  
"Absolutely right," Bryn agreed. "And this is a free land. We can go wherever we want."  
"Fine then," Zechs shrugged. "I won't stop you. But don't blame me later on."  
  


***

"Zechs, you **do** know where you are going, right?" Walker asked.  
Dawn was breaking and they had left Alnwick castle and Levingtown behind them a long time ago. Ahead of them lay one of the large and luscious forests that were plentiful in Alnwick county.  
The blond nodded. "Of course I do."  
"Care to tell us?"

"You will have to wait and see..." Zechs replied. "Or you can turn around now."  
As soon as the three riders entered the forest Walker had the strange feeling that they were being watched by somebody. He tried to tell himself that he was just imagining thing. But apparently he wasn't the only one who had that impression.

It was Laine who said, "Somehow I have the feeling we are not alone."  
"You are right about that," Zechs confirmed calmly. "Make sure you keep your hands away from your weapons if you want to stay alive."

Bryn blinked. "You are not joking, are you?"  
"You can not say I didn't warn you," Zechs remarked, slightly amused, as he turned toward his companions. And then, directed at somebody they couldn't see, he called out. "Rens, aim your weapon somewhere else, will you? Is this a way to greet people?"  
A young man dropped down from a tree just in front of the four riders, his crossbow still pointed in their direction.  
Zechs frowned, as he brought his mount to a hold. "You have been following us for quite a while now. Didn't you recognize me?"  
"I did. I just wasn't sure of your intentions. And I'm still not sure." Rens didn't take an eye of the men.   
"I told you that I would come back some day, didn't I?" The blond answered.  
"So you did, but we didn't expect you to come with a group of soldiers." There was a definite trace of hostility in the young man's voice.  
"These are friends of mine. If I had planned to harm you I would have brought more than just a handful of soldiers, wouldn't you think so?"  
"I don't know," another voice joined in from behind them. "You have always been overly confident of yourself, Zechs. Perhaps you think you are good enough to take on the White Fang alone."  
Zechs snorted. "Nichols of course, I didn't expect anything intelligent out of you. - Are you going to take us to Howard or are we just going to stay here and make small talk?"  
"Hand over your weapon," Nichols demanded.  
"Try to take it and I'll break your neck." Zechs' tone of voice left no doubt that he was dead serious.

"Oh yeah, let's see about that…"  
"Stop it!" Rens interrupted. "The Captain told us the watch them, Nichols. There was no word about starting a fight."

"So, I should just let him insult me?" the brown-haired ex-imperial soldier growled, but backed off anyway.

***

A short time later Zechs was sitting together with Howard in the captain's tent. The old soldier seemed genuinely happy to see the young man again.  
"So, you are here to stay?" Howard asked.

Zechs nodded.   
"What about your friends?"

"I can't speak for them. They will have to make that choice on their own. They are good fighters though, and if they should decide to stay you will not have to worry about there loyalty."

The captain nodded in acknowledgement. "What about you? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Zechs just shrugged. "In a way I suppose. I've decided to stop looking. Perhaps it's better to let the past be just that, the past."

Howard's eyes narrowed, as he wondered what it was that Zechs had found out about himself. But of course he didn't ask. If the young man wanted to talk about it he would do so on his own.  
"Hilde told me about the two of you meeting in Levingtown. I take it that what happened there is the reason for your desertion."

Zechs almost cringed at that word. But of course that was exactly what he was a deserter, so there was no reason to sugar-coat it.  
"Yes it was, but there is no reason for you to tell Hilde that and have her feel guilty about it. She did nothing wrong. I'm somewhat glad it happened. It opened my eyes to a few things I might have otherwise never seen. Besides, somebody once told me that everything in life happens for a reason."

"Well, whatever the reason might be, Zechs. I'm glad you are back." Howard slapped the blond on the back as he got up. 

Zechs hissed in pain and tensed.

The captain looked at him surprised. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," the young man answered evasively.

"You almost jumped out of your chair when I touched you, so don't give me that "nothing" nonsense." Howard scowled at him. "Let me see your back."  
"There is no reason for you to be concerned."

"Stop being stubborn, I have seen you topless before, remember."  
Zechs sighed, too tired to argue with the old man, and took off his shirt. The captain took a sharp breath at the wounds on the young man's back. He didn't have to ask what had happened. It was pretty obvious.  
"You need to have Catherine take a look at that." It sounded like an order not just a suggestion.  
  



	15. The Making of Zechs Merquise part c

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 

  
Part 10c - The Making of Zechs Merquise

A few weeks after Zechs and his men had joined White Fang; the blond ex-soldier went into a town near their campsite, to get his mount shoed. After he dropped the horse of at the smithy Zechs visited the nearby tavern for a meal and a goblet of wine. By the time he returned the Blacksmith had already finished his job.

"What do I owe you?" Zechs asked the tall, broad-shouldered man, as he pulled out his money bag.

"Are you trying to insult me, Sir?" the smith asked with a scowl. "I don't take money from White Fang men."

"What makes you think I'm with White Fang?" Zechs asked.  
The other man snorted in a mixture of amusement and sarcasm. "Now you are trying to insult my intelligence as well, aren't you? The only armed men that come to this town are his Lordship's soldiers, Tubarov's forces or White fang fellows. You don't look like one of Lord Alnwick's men, and imperial soldiers only come in the cover of darkness and in numbers."

"Still, I don't understand," Zechs confessed. "You did your job, you deserve to be paid." 

"The village my brother and his family lives in was attacked by Tubarov's troops last summer There is no saying what might have happened to them if it would not have been for White Fang's men who fought off the attack," the blacksmith explained. "My services are the least I can offer to show my gratitude."

Zechs thanked the man for his generosity and was about to leave when his eyes caught a silvery helmet-like headgear on one of the shelves in back of the room.

The smith, following the young man's look, reached for the helmet and handed it to Zechs.

"It's a nice piece of work," he said with a tinge of pride. "I custom made it for somebody but the man never came back to pick it up."

"Do you mind if I try it on?" Zechs asked.  
"Go right ahead," the smith agreed.

The helmet fit the young man like it had been made for him. It covered half of his face, stopping just short of his mouth. Zechs very much liked the way it looked and felt. It provided protection without being too heavy.

"How much do you want for it?" he asked.

"How much are you willing to pay for it?"

"I think I could give you three gold pieces," Zechs replied.

The blacksmith nodded. "Then, three gold pieces it will be."

"Thank you." Zechs paid the man and gave him a curt nod as he left.

His horse was tethered to a post in front of the smithy. The blonde untied him, mounted and rode off, without ever taking of his new helmet. 

***

If the White Fang wasn't moving or preparing for battle, the days in camp were filled with typical activities. There was wood to be collected, food to be prepared, weapons and armor to be cleaned and maintained.

A little offside from the main camp, a group of men practiced their skills in swordplay. Rens was the unfortunately victim who had to spar with Zechs. The young man was no match for the blond.   
"Hey Zechs," Nichols taunted after the fight. "No wonder you keep winning if you always pick the easy targets. How about fighting against a real man for a change?"  
"Sure, I'm all for that. If you come across one, why don't you send him to me, Nichols," the blond shot back without loosing a beat. 

The comment set off a wave of laughter amongst the assembled men.

Nichols turned bright red. "Damn you, Zechs," he spat. "Don't treat me like I'm beneath you. I don't know who you might have been before you came here, but now you are nothing but a bandit and an outlaw just like the rest of us. You might not like it but we two are very much alike. I deserted from my troops, and you did exactly the same. I broke my allegiance to Tubarov the same as you did to your king."  
Zechs' jaw tightened; his lips turned into a thin line. With two quick steps he was in front of Nichols, standing almost nose to nose with the man.

"I really couldn't care less what you think of me, but let me assure you that you and I will never be the same," Zechs growled low. "And don't you ever question my loyalty toward my king ...never ever…Do you understand?" 

Before the situation could turn into a full-blown fight, Walker and Laine intervened. They grabbed their friend by his arms to hold him back. "Easy, Zechs!"

Nichols was smart enough to walk away while Zechs was restrained. The blonde took a few deep breaths before he calmly said: "Let go of me."

Once they had released him, Zechs turned and walked away without another word. Moments later he left the camp on horseback.

When Zechs returned later that evening, Howard asked to see him in his tent. The young man expected that the captain wanted to chew him out in private, but Howard looked more concerned than angry.   
"What is wrong, Zechs?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Zechs answered stiffly.  
Howard's eyes narrowed.

"I think that's where the problem lies. You haven't been talking since you came back from Alnwick castle."

"It's my personal problem and I can deal with it."  
"It stops being **your** problem if it starts affecting others around you," the gray-haired man snapped.

For a moment it looked like Zechs was going to snap back at him, but then the young man just lowered his head and said quietly. "I understand and I stay corrected, Captain. I will make sure that it won't happen again."   
Howard shook his head. "No, I don't think that you understand. This has something to do with your past, doesn't it? You need to talk about it, Zechs. It is eating you up from the inside. You can not hide from yourself behind that mask."  
The young man just answered with silence.

"Very well!" The captain sighed. "Just remember, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here. You may leave now."

***

Walker woke up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep. Rather than just continuing to toss and turn he rose, and decided to relieve Laine early from his guard-duty. Quietly he pulled on his boots and slipped out of the tent that he was sharing with his friends.

It was still hours till dawn and the forest was draped in silent darkness. As he staggered through the camp he almost stumbled about something…somebody. Walker froze when he realized that it was a human body. It was one of the guards. His throat had been slashed from one ear to the other and he had probable died without making a sound.

Alarmed Walker went off to look for Laine. Moments later he found him, lying in a puddle of blood. His friend had died in the same horrible way as the other guard. The brown-haired soldier run back to sound the alarm, and within moments the camp was buzzing. 

Howard sent a handful of men out to look for any sign of an impending attack, while the rest of them broke camp and readied themselves for battle.

"There is one thing I don't understand, "Walker mused. "When they came close enough to the camp to kill our guards, why didn't they just attack while we were sleeping?"

"I don't understand it either," the captain replied. "And I don't like it. Something is not right here."

"What is this smell?" Zechs asked suddenly alarmed.

"It smells like fire," Howard answered. "You don't think…?"

At the same moment Nichols rode up to them, breathlessly confirming their fear.

"They set the forest ablaze. It's burning from three sides, our only way out is through the canyon."

"Where they will be waiting for us to pick us off," Walker remarked.

"Perhaps," Nichols agreed "But taking that chance is still better than waiting here and being overrun by the fire. We don't have time to stay here and argue about it..."

"Walker is right," Howard said. "The canyon is a bad idea."

"I might have a better one."

All eyes turned toward Zechs.

"Let's hear it," the captain demanded.

"They set fire in the east, north and west, but they forgot about the river running through here. If we follow its course we should be able to break through. The stream is wide enough to create a passage through the wall of flames."

Nichols snorted. "Who says that they won't expect us to do just that and will be waiting for us?"

"They probably do," Zechs agreed. "But unlike in the canyon where a handful of archers, hidden in the rocks, could pick us off easily down by the river they will have to engage us in hand to hand battle."

"That's what we will do," Howard determined. "We will split into small groups and swarm out as soon as we leave the fire behind us. Everybody prepare to leave!"

***

Nichols was right about one thing. Tubarov's men had anticipated the White Fang's move and they lay in waiting just beyond the riverbanks. But Howard had expected that much and taken the proper pre-cautions. The plan was that a number of his men would engage the enemy, creating a passage for the wagons that followed. An archer on each of the covered wagons and a small escort was going to provide protection for every group. Once the wagons had made their escape Howard and his men would hold Tubarov's soldiers for a while longer before they too retreated from the battle.

The gray-haired leader of the White Fang raised his weapon and his voice as he commanded:

"Swarm out and attack!"

Zechs, riding to Howard's left, tightened his grip on his sword as he spurred his mount on.

Moments later the air was filled with the smells and sounds of battle; the noise of metal clashing with metal, the beat of hoofs, the nauseating smell of blood, the screams of the wounded, and the moaning of the dying. 

For a moment the blonde had flashbacks of another battle, just as terrifying and bloody as this. But he pushed those memories away quickly. There was no time for them now. Around him men; friend and foe alike, were dying. He pushed his horse forward and raised his weapon. The once shiny blade was already covered with blood as it split the head of an enemy soldier. The man died instantly, but in some grotesque way still staggered for a couple of steps till he was knocked down and run over by a horse. Another gray-clad soldier attacked Zechs. He jerked around but wasn't fast enough to evade the man's sword. The blade pierced his armor at the left shoulder, before he was able to run the imperial soldier through with his weapon.

The young man tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He could feel blood flow, but he was able to move his arm, so it couldn't be that bad. He noted with some kind of satisfaction that the last of their covered wagons had crossed the enemy line. 

Looking around Zechs found Howard and Rens fighting side by side and joined them. The captain too had noticed that the wagons had made their escape.

"Tell everybody to start their retreat," he ordered, directed at Walker and Nichols who had been fighting nearby, and then turned to Rens and Zechs.

"You two get moving. I'll cover you." Howard of course intended to stay until the end and leave after the last of his men was safe.

"We'll stay with you," Zechs decided. "We can cover each other's backs."

Rens nodded in agreement when he noticed some movement at his right and turned to see a gray-clad soldier readying his crossbow.

"Watch out, Captain!" the young soldier called out, but the warning came too late. The arrow struck Howard in the chest before the grey-haired man could react. 

The archer had little time to enjoy his successful shot. Zechs' sword struck him and killed him instantly. Rens meanwhile had stopped his horse next to Howard who was hanging slumped over his mount's neck.

"How is he?" Zechs asked, as the other man checked the wound.

Rens winced at the amount of blood that was soaking the captain's garb. 

"It doesn't look good," he told the blonde. "But maybe if we can get him to the rendezvous point quickly Catherine might be able to help him. She is a good healer. If anybody can save him she can."

"Maybe," Zechs agreed halfheartedly. The wound really looked bad.

***

Howard had chosen a gathering place in the hills just south of the border to the Sanc Kingdom. It was doubtful that Tubarov's would follow them that far. 

When Catherine's group arrived at the rendezvous point others were already there. Some of the men had already secured the perimeters and set up what few tents they had left. The young woman jumped from the covered wagon she had been traveling on and was greeted by Hilde.

"We have a lot of wounded. And I'm afraid there are a lot more to come," the black-haired girl told her.

Catherine nodded. She had expected that much.

"I could use some help," she said. "I will need hot water, a lot of it. I think we can risk making a fire as long as there is daylight. While you take care of that I'll start checking the wounded."

Hilde nodded in acknowledgement.

The young healer looked around the campsite and sighed. "It looks like we've lost several of our wagons and I'm afraid we are low on food and medical supplies. We'll have to take care of those first that have the greatest chance to survive."

Catherine was dressing the leg wound of a man who had been hit by an arrow when the Hilde stormed into the tent.

"Catherine, come quickly. Howard has been wounded. Zechs and Rens brought him in."

The young girl was gone before Catherine could ask any questions. 

The captain was still alive when they brought him into one of the tents, but he was unconscious and had lost a lot of blood. There was little the healer could do for him. Zechs stayed with Howard throughout the night and into the morning. Catherine took care of his shoulder wound and suggested that he should get some sleep but the young man refused. When the blonde finally emerged from the canvas tent a deadly silence fell over the camp. The men stopped what they were doing and formed a half circle around the young man.

"The Captain is dead," Zechs announced soberly and then after a short moment of silence he continued in a calm but firm voice. "I'll be taking over leadership of the White Fang. Anybody who wants to challenge me on that is welcome to try."

Zechs glared in Nichols' direction, but neither he nor anybody else seemed to have the desire to oppose the blonde.

"Howard was a great soldier and an even greater leader. I know that I will never be able to replace him. But I'll do my best. A lot of good men died today. Their deaths won't be in vain. I can't promise that we will ever see justice done, but I **do** promise that we will have revenge," Zechs declared. Judging from the cheers that he received it was clear that his men clearly agreed with him. 

***

Later that day Zechs and a handful of men returned to the battlefield in hopes to find anybody who might have survived the onslaught, only to see that the imperial soldier had already beaten them to it. 

The new leader of White Fang clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing behind his mask, at the sight of two dozen or so bodies dangling from the trees just at the edge of the forest. He rode closer, and his stomach twisted as he recognized his friend Bryn amongst those hanging. Zechs swore that he would make Tubarov pay.

***

The attack by Tubarov's troops had dealt a hard blow to the White Fang. They lost a large number of men and horses and nearly half of their gear and supplies, but they didn't lose their spirit. When Tubarov had thought that this was the end of his problems with the group, he couldn't have been more wrong. White Fang had been dangerous before. But now they were fighting with the fury of an injured predator desperate for survival. 

Zechs developed a new "hit and fade" tactic. Working in small groups the White Fang pushed deeper and deeper into Romefeller territory, attacking small outposts and military strongholds like packs of hungry wolves. They struck, took what they needed and retreated long before backup arrived. When they were in need of horses or weapons they replaced them from the stocks of Lord Alnwick. Zechs called it "collecting their dues" from his Lordship for protecting his land and subjects.

::: End of Flashback:::

By the time Zechs had finished his story it was nearly dawn. Relena had listened without interrupting her brother even once. Her face was a mask of sadness and sorrow as she hugged him tightly. "Oh Milliardo, I can only imagine how horrible this all must have been for you. But now it is over. And I still don't understand why you don't want to come back home?"

He freed himself from her embrace held her at arm length and eyed her with a frown on his face.

"Have you listened to anything I have just told you, Princess? Did you hear how I have been living and what I have done? I have changed. I'm not the same person who I was two years ago. My hands are stained with blood."

"You did what you had to do to survive, Milliardo. It wasn't like you had much of a choice."

"Somehow I had a feeling you would say something like that." Zechs smiled sadly as he let go of her. "I wish it was this easy, but it is not. Father would never understand. I know he would never forgive me."

"Don't say that," Relena told him. 

"Princess, you know as well as I do, that the kingdom always comes first for Father. It comes before anything else, including family." Zechs smiled wryly. "I never said I would say this, but I think that's what makes him such an excellent ruler."

"You are not the only one who changed, Milliardo. We all did, including Father. Your disappearance hit him hard. Isn't there anything that would make you change your mind and come back home?"

"No," Zechs answered resolute. "I can't. I have responsibilities; people to take care off."  
"What about the responsibilities you have toward the people in this kingdom? You are the crown prince. Have you forgotten that?" Relena objected.  
"I have stopped being a prince a long time ago. Now I'm an outlaw. It is best for everyone if Milliardo Peacecraft remains dead." The blonde looked up at the sky as he rose. "The sun is coming up. It's time for me to leave. I'll take you back to town and leave you at a safe place where you can wait for somebody to pick you up."

Zechs helped her up into the saddle before he mounted the horse. 

"Milliardo, I beg you, please come with me to the castle. You don't have to stay, but at least talk to father and Heero."

_Relena, please don't make this any harder for me than it is already._ "I can't." _Because if I do, I'm not sure I'd have the strength to leave again._

***

Treize wasn't sure what woke him. Perhaps it was simple instinct or a noise, or maybe the lack thereof.

The captain had assigned two of his men to guard the corridor outside the quarters of the royal family. The room he shared with Wufei was located at the end of the same corridor. Usually one would hear footsteps when the guards walked up and down the hall, or whispering when they talked quietly to each other. But Treize didn't hear any of that. He frowned as he tried to free himself from Wufei's arms.

"Where are you going?" the young wizard asked sleepily.

"I'm just going to check on the guards," Treize told him, as slipped out of bed and into his trousers and shirt. _They'd better not be asleep._

When the captain stepped outside his door, he found the corridor empty. A sickening feeling started to spread in his stomach. The feeling only increased when he noticed that the door to the princess' bedchamber was cracked open.

He called over his shoulder for Wufei as he hurried down the hall toward the girl's quarters.

"Princess Relena?!" he called out as he opened the door. 

An empty bed the last thing the captain saw, because the moment he set foot into the room he was hit by an invincible force, and thrown across the hall and into the opposite wall.

_Blasted Protection spell!_ Treize groaned as he scrambled back to his feet. "Wufei, get over here, now!" he yelled.

"Are you alright?" the young wizard asked concerned as he came running to assist his master.

"I'm fine," Treize assured him. "But it seems that the princess is gone. Remove the spell, hurry up."

A moment later king Stephán and Lord Yuy entered the scene. Both of them looked like they had been ripped from deep sleep. Heero was carrying his sword, and for an instant Treize wondered if the young lord actually took his weapon to bed with him.

"What's going on?" the king asked.

"It appears that Princess Relena has been taken from her bedchamber, your Highness," the ginger-blond captain reported. "There is no sign of the guards either."

The king grew visible pale, and his eyes widened in shock. ""How could that happen?" His head snapped around toward Wufei. "I thought you had put spells up at every room."

"He did," Treize answered quickly, feeling the need to defend his slave. "And the spell was still working when I first tried to enter the room."

The conversation was interrupted when Captain Ventuno arrived. Only moments after he was informed about Relena's disappearance his men swarmed the palace to search for her or any sign of an intruder.

"What kind of spell did you use?" Heero suddenly asked.

Wufei shrugged, uncertain what difference that made. "A modified protection spell," he replied. "I set it up sp that that only allowed members of the royal family including you would be able to enter or leave the room."

"If that's what you did, then explain to me what happened?" the king snapped.

"I don't know, your Majesty," the black-haired wizard confessed. "I don't understand it myself. Nobody but you, the princess and Heero should have been able to get through the barrier the spell created."

"Hmmm!" Lord Yuy grunted pensively. "There is of course one other member of the royal family."

All eyes turned to the brunette.

"What are you suggesting?" Wufei frowned.

"You are talking about Prince Milliardo, aren't you?" Treize clarified.  
Heero nodded silently.

Wufei's frown deepened. "But that would make absolutely no sense. Even if the prince is still alive, why would he kidnap his own sister?"

Heero shrugged. "We have to remember that once before Milliardo did things that seemed unbelievable. We all assumed that he got murdered, although we never found his body. Perhaps we need to consider the possibility that whoever kidnapped him had no plans to kill him, but wanted to use him against us."

King Stephán nodded. As disturbing as that thought was, he had to admit that it made sense.

Treize Looked at Wufei. "Take his majesty back to his chambers and stay with him." He then turned toward two of his men and ordered. "I want guards outside his majesty's quarters. Nobody enters but me and Heero."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Just hold on a moment, Captain. You don't think I'm going to hide in my quarters while everybody else is looking for my daughter?"

"Yes, your Highness, that's exactly what I'm thinking. I'm responsible for your safety and I find that your quarters are the safest place for you at the moment. At least until we find out what exactly happened to the princess," Treize replied calmly. 

"Very well," the king agreed. "I expect that you keep me informed, Captain."

"Yes, Sir." Treize nodded.

Only moments after king Stephán and Wufei retreated to the king's chamber one of Captain Ventuno's soldiers reported that the two royal guards, who had been protecting the hallway, had been found tied up but alive.

Heero turned toward Treize. "I think that Wufei and half of our royal guard should be able to provide adequate protection for his Highness. I'll take the rest of the men and try to find Relena."  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Treize asked. "What if the person we are dealing with really **is** Prince Milliardo?"  
"Captain, my loyalty lies with my king and my country," Heero replied calmly. "And if Milliardo proofs to be a danger to either I'll do what I have to do to eliminate that danger."  
"He really has ice-waster in his veins, doesn't he?" Ventuno remarked, as he watched the young lord walk.  
"Or perhaps that's what he wants us to believe," Treize answered thoughtfully.

***

King Stephán paced restlessly forth and back in his room, hands clasped behind his back. Neither he nor Wufei had spoken a single word. Occasionally the king would stop for a moment and gaze out of the window, before resuming his walk.

The rising sun was painting the horizon with golden-red colors when Captain Treize came to see them.  
"I have good news, your Highness," he announced, a soft smile on his face. "Princess Relena has been found. Whoever took her dropped her off at the local tavern. As far as I know she wasn't harmed in any way."  
"Thank god," the king gave a sigh of relief. "Does Heero know?"

Treize nodded. "He and his men were just about to leave the castle when the messenger arrived. He is on his way to pick up the princess as we speak."

It didn't take long until Heero and Princess Relena returned to the castle. 

Wufei and Treize discretely left the room to give father and daughter some privacy.  
Relena embraced and hugged king Stephán. "Father!"

"Oh Relena , I was so worried about you," he confessed, as he held her tightly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Father," she assured him.   
"It was Milliardo, wasn't it?" the king asked, a strange mixture of hope and fear in his voice.

Relena nodded as she freed herself from his embrace, took a step backward and looked up at him. "How did you know?"

"Only he could have broken the spell that Wufei put around your bedchamber." The king looked his daughter over, searching for any sign that she was injured. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, no of course not," Relena shook her head. "It's not like that, Father. We just talked. He told me everything that happened to him."

Stephán breathed a sigh of relief. "How is he? Is he alright?"  
"I will tell you everything," the princess assured him. "Captain Treize, Heero and Wufei should hear it too. Just give me a little time to change into something a little more… appropriate."

  
***

While Relena left to get dressed, the king called for Treize Heero and Wufei. On the princesses' request he also asked Captain Ventuno to join them. 

The small group was sitting quietly around the table as princess Relena recounted her meeting with her brother.

Nobody interrupted her, but by the time she was finished even Heero had lost his usual stoic demeanor and looked like he was ready to kill somebody.

"I can't believe that Lord Alnwick has the audacity to ask us to help him hunt Milliardo down after what he did to him. And how ca you let such an injustice happen?" he snapped at Captain Ventuno.

The captain swallowed. He had turned quite pale during Relena's account.

"I had no idea who he was...is."

"What difference does it make?"  
"Hold on, Heero," the princess put her hand on Heero's arm to calm him. "You are barking up the wrong tree. Milliardo spoke very highly of the captain. That's the only reason I asked for him to join us."

"I don't understand how nobody in this castle recognized Prince Milliardo," Treize remarked with a frown. "I realize that he himself didn't remember who he was, but his Lordship visited the royal palace and met the Prince before, hasn't he?"

"Perhaps, but they never met while Zechs, I mean the prince was here at the castle," Ventuno replied quietly. "I've tried a few times to arrange a meeting between them but his Lordship was rather busy at the time."

Heero gave a low growl as he rose from his chair.

"Where are you going?" Treize wanted to know.

"I'm going to have a little talk with his Lordship," the young lord replied, his expression promising a slow and painful death.

"Heero, sit down!" the king's voice was calm but stern. "Not a single word of that was spoken here will leave this room. This includes the fact that Milliardo is still alive."

"I beg your pardon?" Heero stared at him in confusion.

"For now it is better if people believe that the crown prince is dead rather than knowing that he has become an outlaw."

Relena shook her head. There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice when she spoke. "Oddly enough, that's exactly what Milliardo thought you would say, Father."

"Because your brother realizes that, if we reveal his true identity now, there is no saying how Emperor Tubarov might react. He may very well take it as an excuse to declare war on Sank. We need at least some time to prepare ourselves for that possibility."

"So what are we going to do then?" Heero asked, as he settled back down into his chair.

"We will leave this afternoon just as we had intended to do," the king explained, "after **I** had a talk with Lord Alnwick."

"Sire, now that we know that Milliardo is alive we can't just leave him here and go back home."  
"Heero, that's a choice he has made for himself."

***

Lord Alnwick had no idea why the king had ordered – yes order, not asked- to see him. He could only guess that it might have anything to do with Princess Relena's disappearance during the night.

King Stephán was standing by the window, looking down into the yard, where his men prepared their horses for his departure. He let the Lord wait for a few moments before he turned and spoke.

"Lord Alnwick, I have been heard a few rather disturbing accusations against you."

"What kind of accusations?" Alnwick wanted to know.

"I will not go into details, but they include charges of you are neglecting your obligations as the lord of this county, and that you are seriously abusing your power."

"Who told you those lies? I would **never**…"

The king cut Alnwick off with a hand gesture. "I was not finished talking. I assure you, Lord Alnwick, that we would not have this conversation if I wasn't certain that at least some of those accusations are true."

The lord swallowed.

King Stephán glared at him. "Must I remind you that you are a representative of the crown, my Lord? You are here to assure that the laws of this kingdom are upheld? How can you expect other people to follow those laws if you don't follow them yourself? I gave you your title and this land and I can take it from you just as easily," He gave the man another stern glare. "Make no mistake, Lord Alnwick, I'll not hesitate to do so if it becomes necessary. Did I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, your Highness."

"Excellent. Then you may leave."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that this was the last chapter that I needed to revise, and everything from here on forward will be new. The bad news is that writing new chapters will take of course longer than revising an old one, so I won't be updating quite as frequently. 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	16. Vital Discoveries

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story

_________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Part 11 – Vital Discoveries

The tents had been taken down; the wagons were packed and ready to move out, by the time Zechs reached the camp. 

"Let's get going," he ordered. "We have overstayed our welcome here at Alnswick County. We will head west to the Welshyre Kingdom."

Nobody questioned his decision; nobody asked where he had been. The remaining White Fang members had accepted him as their leader and they trusted him just as they had trusted Howard. As the caravan of riders and covered wagons slowly started to move, Zechs took the lead. It wasn't long before Hilde rode up next to him. 

"Where is she?" the black-haired girl asked.

He didn't have to ask who she was talking about.

"I let her go; left her at a place where she was safe until her guards would pick her up."  
Hilde's eyes widened.

"You did what? You broke into the castle, risked getting caught and hanged, to kidnap the princess just to let her go again. Have you completely lost your mind, Zechs?"

He didn't answer, but his lips, not hidden by the mask he was wearing, curved into a soft smile. She had barely ever seen Zechs smile. Suddenly something occurred to Hilde.

"It's her, isn't it? The girl from you dreams you once told me about? It's Princess Relena. – Who the hell are you?"

He looked at her, the smile gone from his face. "I **am** Zechs Merquise and that's all that matters. Who I **was **is of no importance."

*****

"Rashid," Quatre looked up at the tall Arab riding next to him, with a soft smile. "I'm glad that you found me and convinced me to come back home with you."

Over the past weeks the young mage had gotten slowly reacquainted with his family, and he knew now that his decision to return to Surabia had been the right one. After Quatre had spent time with his father and talked things out with him he felt far less angry. Seeing his sisters again had been wonderful. They still adored him and started to spoil him the moment he arrived at the palace. Four of his sisters had married since he had left. Three of them had moved away to live with their husband's families. But they came to visit when they learned that their little brother had returned. His oldest sister Iria and her husband, the son of a wealthy sheikh, still lived in the Emir's palace. 

Quatre's father didn't like the idea that his son was planning to return to Sank. But Quatre had made it clear that he had made up his mind and that there was nothing that could change that. 

"I'm glad that I was able to convince you, my Prince," Rashid answered earnestly.   
The young mage almost winced. After having regained his freedom from slavery only a few months ago, he wasn't quite ready yet to be a prince again. "Please Rashid, I asked you not to call me that."  
"Forgive me, but it seems so disrespectful to call you by only your name. At least allow me to address you as Master Quatre."  
The blond signed. "Fine, if that's what you want. Although, I don't find it insulting at all if you just use my name. You should have heard all the things I have been called while I was a slave."

The moment the last word was out Quatre wished he hadn't said it. Rashid's face darkened instantly. The boy knew that his father's personal guard was blaming himself for not being there to save Quatre, when he had been kidnapped.   
"If anybody will ever dare to disrespect you in my present I will kill him with my own hands," the tall man growled.

Quatre was sure he was not joking. 

The boy reached for his canteen. It was almost empty, and the water was getting warm. He took a few small sips and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"How much further until we reach the oasis?" he wanted to know.

"Only a few more miles," Rashid assured him.   
Quatre let out a sigh of relief. The sun was burning down at them, and he was beginning to regret that he had gone on this trip with Rashid. The two of them were traveling to Makhmed, the city of the Maganacs. Makhmed was located in the middle of the desert, a good hundred miles from the royal city.

A few days ago Quatre had asked Rashid to take him back the old hut where he and master H had lived before the raider attack, but Rashid had told him that there was nothing left of that place. The raiders had burned the hut down, and over the years the desert sand had swallowed what had been left of it. After the attack the emir had sent out the Maganacs, his personal elite guards, to search for Quatre and the raiders who had kidnapped him. The Maganacs also sifted through the rubble of H's house. Anything and everything that the fire had spared had been brought to Makhmed and kept there ever since. When Rashid told Quatre about a strange book, written in a language that nobody could decipher, the blond mage had decided that he wanted to go to Makhmed and see the book for himself. 

Quatre and his bodyguard had left his father's palace before the break of dawn. Rashid had recommended taking a break at an oasis, rest during the hottest hours of the day and ride on once the heat became more bearable. Quatre was more than grateful for that suggestion. It was hot, too hot for somebody who had spent most of his life in the mild climate of Sank.

Once they reached the top of a large sand dune they were able to see a small number of tents and palm trees near a watering hole. Water was precious here in the dessert. It was more valuable then gold, as it meant the difference between life and death for those who lived here. An oasis was a place where local nomadic tribes stopped to refill their water supplies; a place buzzing with people and animals.

The two riders were greeted with curious looks. Most of the people here had probably never seen a person with blond hair and blue eyes. So it was not surprising that Quatre became somewhat of an object of interest, especially for the children in the camp.   
Rashid began to unload their packhorse and put up a small canvas tent with skilled hands.

"What do you want me to do, Rashid?" the young mage asked. "Should I go and water the horses?"

His tall companion shook his head. "I'll take care of that, Master Quatre. You just sit down and rest. We still have a long way ahead of us."

As Rashid walked off with their mounts the boy settled down near their tent and sipped slowly on his freshly refilled canteen. At the sound of soft giggling he turned his head. A group of children, the youngest probably no older than four or five years of age, were watching him from a distance. They were whispering to each other and laughing. Quatre smiled at them and gestured that it was okay for them to come closer. Shyly a few of the older kids approached and one especially brave girl, about nice or ten years old, came close enough to reach out and carefully touch his hair. Then she hurried back to the others to tell them excitedly how soft and silky his hair was.

"Are they bothering you, Mater Quatre?"   
Rashid had come back from the waterhole. Quatre shook his head. "No, not at all. They are just curious."

"Very well. But if they are getting too pesky just let me know and I'll shoo them away."

The blond mage sighed. "Rashid, you know although I might not look like it, I'm very capable take care of myself. If those children get on my nerves I can tell them myself."  "

"Forgive me, I did not mean to imply that you couldn't."

"It's alright. I am a little tired. Do you think I could lie down and take a short nap?"

The tall Arab nodded. "We will be here for several hours. Go to sleep and I'll wake you when we are ready to leave."  
"Thank you," Quatre replied gratefully, before he crawled into the tent, kicked off his boots and stretched out on one of the soft sleeping rugs. For a moment his mind wandered off to the Sank Kingdom and he wondered how his friends were doing, but soon sleep overwhelmed his tired body.  
  


*****

  
"What's wrong?" Duo asked his friend as he put down his crossbow. He and Trowa had been practicing on the shooting range all morning. "You are awfully quiet today."

The other youth shrugged. He pulled another arrow from his quiver, loaded his weapon and fired, hitting the target just inches from where his friend's arrow stuck.

"My uncle," he finally said, while he re-loaded his crossbow. "You remember that he asked to see me last night?  He told me that he had gotten an invitation from Emperor Tubarov to visit him at his castle."

"Yes?!" Duo asked.  That was hardly unusual. Trowa's uncle, the current Ruler of Crownwood, had visited the Emperor on more than one occasion in the past. After all Crownwood and the Romefeller Empire were allies.

Another arrow hit the wooden target, then the young prince turned toward his braided friend.  
"This time, he said, that he expects me to accompany him. Emperor Tubarov mentioned that he would like to meet me."

"Perhaps he wants to try to get on your good side. You are the crown prince, after all. So, when will we be going on this trip?"

"We?" Trowa asked, one eyebrow raised. 

"I'm going with you of course," his companion replied.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Uncle might not allow it."

"He surely won't expect the crown prince to travel without his personal servant?"

"I suppose you are right. I might be able to convince him to take you along." Trowa sighed as he reached for his last arrow. "You know, Duo, I have a bad feeling about this. It seem like it has been too quiet for too long. I have the feeling that Tubarov is planning something."

  
*****

  
Quatre was woken by the sounds of people yelling. He stuck his head out of the tent and rubbed his eyes.  
"What's going on?"

"Some kind of accident, a child got hurt," Rashid explained. "I'll go see if I can help somehow."

Quatre nodded. He quickly slipped into his boots and followed the tall man. Only moments later he could see what had happened. One of the large Bedouin tents had collapsed and trapped a little girl under one of the broken tent poles.  
A number of men, Rashid amongst them, had already begun to move away wooden debris and canvas. Two women were comforting a third, apparently the child's mother, who was crying hysterical. As the men moved the large tent pole Quatre recognized the little girl that had earlier touched his hair. Her eyes were closed; blood ran over her face from a large wound on the side of her head and soaked the sand beneath her. She looked so fragile, like a broken doll that somebody had thrown away. An icy cold started to spread the young mage's stomach, as he felt her life slowly slip away.   
"Let me though to her." Quatre pushed aside the people around him and made his way through the crowd that had gathered. As he dropped down to his knees, closed his eyes and summoned his strength he prayed that he would be powerful enough to save the child. The moment he laid his hands on her head, a wave of distress hit him. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he began to perform his healing spell. An aura of soft light surrounded the young mage and the girl. After some initial gasps of astonishment and wonder, the crowd had fallen dead silent.

Slowly, while he could feel his own strength slip away, Quatre could sense the child's life-force grow. He knew that his spell was working and that alone was enough for him to continue. Finally, after what seemed forever, he broke the connection and the soft light dissipated.

Quatre turned toward his bodyguard. "Rashid, tell her mother that she will be fine," he managed to whisper, then he promptly passed out.

When he came to and opened his eyes, the first thing the young mage saw was Rashid's worried face hovering above him. Then he realized that he was back in his tent.

"Hello Rashid," he grinned sheepishly. "What did I miss?"

"Master Quatre, thank Allah you are finally awake."

"I'm sorry if I scared you." Quatre tried to sit up, but Rashid grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down with gentle force. 

"You still need to rest."

"But shouldn't be on our way?"  
"It is almost nighttime," the man told him. "You have been unconscious for hours. We will stay here over night and leave early in the morning."

Quatre nodded. "How is the little girl anyway?"

"She is doing well. Her name is Atisha. She woke up and was on her feet in no time at all, unlike you, Master Quatre," Rashid gave him a stern look. "You are too caring for your own good. You help others without keeping your own wellbeing in mind. I want you to promise me that you will be more careful in the future. It's my duty to keep you save, but you are not making it very easy for me."

"Relax, Rashid," Quatre replied. "I'm fine. I couldn't just let her die, could I? Anyway, I'm not a little boy anymore. I know how far I can push myself. And my father doesn't even have to know about this."  
"It's not so much your father I'm worried about," his bodyguard confessed. "Lord Yuy and that wizard friend of yours on the other hand, I'm sure they will skin me alive if I let anything happen to you, Master Quatre."

"We can't let that happen now, can we," the blond mage laughed. "Alright, I promise to be more careful from now on."

Rashid nodded in satisfaction. "There is a present for you outside, Master Quatre. Atisha's parents left it before they moved on."

"A present? How could you accept a present, Rashid?" Quatre frowned. "I didn't expect to be rewarded for what I did."

"I realize that, but I don't think it would have been polite to refuse their gift of gratitude."

"I suppose you are right," the young mage agreed. "May I see it?"

"You will have to come outside, Master Quatre. I'm afraid it is a little too big for me to bring into the tent."

"Oh," Quatre exclaimed, with a curious look at Rashid. He sat up, slipped into his boots and followed the tall man outside. Near the tent where their horses were tied up, stood now another one; a stallion, dun with a long cream-colored mane.

"He is beautiful," Quatre gasped. "Does he have a name?"

 "Sandrock."

The mount moved his ears and turned his head as his name was spoken.

"It fits him well." The blond mage stepped closer and patted the stallion's strong neck. Sandrock whinnied and scratched the ground with his hoof. Quatre smiled softly. 

"We should eat and get some sleep, so that we can rise early, and leave before the sun comes up," Rashid suggested.  
"You are right." Quatre nodded. "Good night, Sandrock. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

The stallion answered with another whinny.

***

The second day of their journey was no different than the first day had been. The sun was burning down on them mercilessly, and even the wind was hot and uncomfortable. They had stopped at an oasis once again to wait out the hottest hours of the day. Quatre was riding Sandrock. Already the stallion seems to recognize him as his new master. He had bucked and even tried to bite when Rashid saddled him, but around Quatre he was much more calm and peaceful.

"We are almost there."

Quatre snorted in amusement. "You have been telling me that all day."

"But this time it's true." Rashid pointed toward the horizon.

The young mage raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked up. And sure enough he could make out the outlines of a settlement in the distance. In the glistering sun it looked almost like a mirage.

As the two riders came closer, their horses raised their heads, and fell into a faster pace, lured by the smell of water and food.

Quatre looked around as they rode into the city.  The houses were small and simple, build from mud bricks and straw.

"So, this is Makhmed," Quatre said as he and Rashid dismounted. He turned his head toward his companion. "Were you born here?"

Rashid nodded. "Born and raised, like all Maganacs," he replied with a hint of pride in his voice.

Quatre chuckled, and the tall man gave him a questioning.

"I just tried to imagine little Rashid playing in these streets."

"I don't think the captain was ever **little,**" a good-humored voice announced from behind them.

The blond mage turned to face a young man, wearing the same kind of outfit as Rashid and a red cap on his head.

"Master Quatre, please meet Abdul." Rashid introduced. "Abdul, this is Prince Quatre."

"Prince…Quatre?" Abduls eyes went wide and he fell to his knees. "I did not mean to be disrespectful, my Prince." 

Quatre rolled his eyes and huffed. "Rashid, please?!"

Rashid nodded. "Abdul, get up!" he told the other man. "Master Quatre doesn't like for people to kneel in front of him. He doesn't like to be addressed by his title either."

Abdul looked somewhat confused but rose to his feet.

"Will you take Master Quatre to his quarters, while I take care of our horses?" Rashid asked.  
"Sure thing, Captain. Please, follow me, my….umm…Master Quatre."

"I'll see you later, after you had time to rest a little, and show you the things we recovered from Master H's dwelling."

Quatre nodded. "Thank you, Rashid."

As he followed Abdul, Quatre noticed that the young man was glancing at him curiously and repeatedly.

"What is it?" he finally asked.

The Maganacs blushed slightly. "I was just looking at your weapon. I don't think I have ever seen a sword like that."

The young mage pulled the sword from its sheath and handed it to Abdul. Abdul hesitated for a moment before he the weapon.

"It's heavy," he remarked as he studied it from all sides.

Quatre nodded. It was indeed larger and heavier than the crescent shaped scimitars Rashid and his men were using. He told Abdul about knights in metal armor even stronger and heavier broadswords that they used in battle. "If you would like I can show you later how to use it," he offered with a gesture at his weapon.

"Really, you would do that, Master Quatre?"

Quatre smiled, as he gave another nod. Somehow he had instantly taken a liking on the young man.

They entered one of the white painted houses. The air was pleasantly cool inside Quatre let out a sigh of relief.

"It isn't much," Abdul said as he showed Quatre to his room. "We live rather simple."

"It is just perfect," the young mage assured him as he looked around.

"Let me get you some water. You probably want to fresh up a little."

"Thank you. And Abdul…"

"Yes, Master Quatre?"

"Would you mind showing me the city a little later?"

"Not at all." Abdul hold him with a smirk. "I would love to."

***

"This is the book I told you about, Master Quatre," Rashid said, as he put a thick, leather bound book in front of the young mage.

The first thing that caught Quatre's interest was the mark on the cover. It was identically to the birthmark on his body. As the opened the book, Quatre realized what Rashid had been talking about. It was written in a very strange, almost symbol-like language. He never had seen anything like it before. The book seemed very old, and on some pages the ink was beginning to fade.

"Do you know what kind of language this might be?" Rashid asked.

Quatre shook his head. "No, I don't recognize it. I wonder if anybody in Sank knows more about this book. King Stephán has one that looks similar, at least from the outside. It too had the special mark on it." 

"It is special, I'm sure of it," Rashid agreed. "The fire never even touched it. Everything around it was burned to ashes."

"I'll take it with me when I return to Sank," Quatre decided. "Was there anything else?"

"A few personal belongings of yours we returned to your father. And then there was this." Rashid put another book on the table. "Master H's journal it appears."

The blond mage opened the book curiously. The first entree on the very first page was very short; only a single sentence. _It has begun._

When Quatre looked at the date on the top of the page he realized that it was written on the very day he was born. The young mage started to read through the journal. He recalled some of the things H wrote about; others he couldn't remember at all. Apparently the old man had kept a very close eye on Quatre even after the Emir had thrown him out of the palace and the royal city. 

The last entree H had made ended with _…The boy's empathic abilities are improving steadily. He never seizes to amaze me. He is much stronger than I had ever thought. But if he is strong enough to master all the challenges he has ahead of him, only time can tell. Tomorrow we will begin to work on his other abilities …_

But of course that never happened, the following night raiders attacked H's home and kidnapped the young prince.

"Rashid," Quatre spoke as he closed the journal. "Can we stay here at Makhmed for a few days? I would love to see more of the city, and watch the Maganacs train."

The tall man nodded. "We can stay as long as you wish, Master Quatre."

*****

Emperor Tubarov's palace was easily the most fortified castle Duo had ever seen. The inner curtain-wall was enclosed by a second, even stronger wall. They had to cross not one, but two drawbridges to reach the inner yard of the castle.  
Duo gazed around. Aside from a statue of the emperor himself, he saw little decorations and adornments. The grey stone walls looked dark and uninviting.  
"This place gives me the creeps," he whispered to Trowa.  
"I know. It has an eerie feeling to it."

The king gave the two of them a disapproving look. "I don't want to hear talk like that. We are here as guests, and I expect that you show the Emperor the respect that he deserves, is that understood?"  
"Yes, Uncle," Trowa replied.

"Duo?"

"Yes, your Highness, I understand."  
As Duo looked up he noticed a woman standing on one of the second floor balconies, watching them. She was tall, with long, black hair, and wore an open black robe over a crimson red dress. The braided boy turned his head for just a moment and when he looked back up she was gone.

The emperor's steward, a short, heavy set man, with a nose that reminded Duo of a hawk's beak, greeted the king and his entourage in the castle yard. He showed them to their quarters, while a number of servants took care of their horses and luggage.

Duo's small servant's room was adjoined to the prince's much larger bed chamber.

"Did you uncle tell you, why Tubarov asked to see him?" the braided boy asked as he poured water from a bucket into a silver basin, for the prince and refresh himself.

Trowa shook his head. "I asked him but he only said that they had to discuss state's affairs." He slipped out of his tunic and travel pants.

"I suppose you will find out soon enough."

While the prince washed himself Duo laid out a new set of clothes for him. Trowa thanked his friend with a nod. He was barely finished dressing when his uncle, the king, knocked at his door. 

"Are you ready, Trowa? The emperor is expecting us, we shouldn't let him wait."

"I'm ready," Trowa replied.

One his way out of the door the prince turned once more to face Duo. "Promise me that you won't get into trouble, while I'm gone."

"I promise," Duo told him, with a smirk.

***

  
Emperor Tubarov greeted his guest with a smile as fake as the pearls around a gypsy's neck.  
"King Dekim, I'm pleased to see you again. And I'm even more pleased that you have brought your nephew with you this time. I have been looking forward to meeting you, Prince Trowa."

"Thank you," Trowa answered with a respectful bow. "We appreciate your invitation, Emperor."

"You must be hungry after your long journey." Tubarov gestured at the lavishly set table. "I had a small meal prepared. Let's sit down and eat, shall we?"

"Where is Lady Catorce, if I may ask?" the king wanted to know. "Will she be joining us?"

"She should be here any moment," the emperor replied.

As if on cue, the door opened and the sorceress walked into the room.

"Forgive my tardiness," she apologized. "I was so wrapped up in my work I didn't realize how late it was."

"You are working too much, my Lady," Tubarov told her, before he introduced her to his guests. "You do remember King Dekim, don't you? And this is his nephew Crown Prince Trowa Barton."

"And what a handsome young man he is." The sorceress extended her hand, and Trowa kissed it courteously.

"King Barton," the emperor spoke as they settled down at the table. "I'm sure you will be pleased to know that the first 800 imperial soldiers are on their way to Crownwood. I'll send another 700 -800 men in a month or two."

Trowa looked first at his uncle then Tubarov. "What do we need that many soldiers for?"

"They will be guarding our border with Sank," the king explained.

The prince frowned. "We never had even half as many men stationed at the border."

"These are dangerous times, my young prince. A powerful army will make your enemies think twice about invading your country." Tubarov's voice was smooth as oil.  
"As far as I know, Sank has never invaded anybody in the past. What makes you think that they would start now?"  
"Better safe than sorry, wouldn't you agree."

"Trowa that's quite enough," the king told him. "It is not your place to question Emperor Tubarov's or my decisions."

***  
  


Duo started out of the window, bored. He wished that there was something to do for him, something else but sitting here and waiting for the prince to return. Suddenly the braided boy smirked.  Sure, he had promised Trowa that he wouldn't get into trouble. But that didn't mean that he couldn't take a little tour through the castle. He just had to make sure that he didn't get caught.   
Duo left the chamber and asked one of the nearby guards for the way to the stables. He figured that, if he got caught by someone snooping around, he could tell them that he had gotten lost.  
He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but a steep and narrow staircase, leading into some kind of basement, caught his attention. For a moment he wondered if it led into the dungeon. But when he climbed down the stairs he found himself in a long corridor. A few burning torches provided inadequate illumination, and made the place appear murky and uninviting.  
Duo saw several doors. He tried to open the first but found it locked. The braided boy grinned. There was no such thing as a lock that he couldn't open. He pulled out a small but sturdy metal pick, which he had been hiding in his long braid. He poked around in the keyhole for a few moments then there was a quiet click and the door was unlocked. Duo pushed it open and peered into the room.

There were no windows and it was dark. As he walked forward Duo suddenly bumped into somebody. Startled he took a step backward and froze. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he realized that he hadn't run into a guard, as he had first assumed, but into some kind of statue, or coat of armor. With a sheepish grin, Duo reached out to touch it when the armor suddenly started to move its right hand. Duo's eyes went wide, as he backed off even further.

For a moment the braided boy thought that he had been imagining things, but then the armor moved again. This time there was no doubt about it. The large hand opened slowly, moved toward the sword and pulled the weapon. Duo, armed only with a small dagger, didn't wait to see what happened next. He turned and dashed out of the room. He slammed the door closed behind him and relocked it, then he waited for a moment, listening. 

_What the hell was that?_

After a few moments of consideration Duo decided to go ahead and check out the next room. Very slow and very cautious he opened the door, somewhat surprised that it wasn't locked.

_Perhaps_, he thought, _the other room is locked only to keep that thing– whatever it may be- inside._

This chamber had a small window high up on the wall. A beam of pale moonlight fell through it, draping the room in dim twilight.   
Bull's-eye! Duo thought as he gazed around. This is just what I was hoping to find.

The walls were lined with shelves filled with spell books and scrolls. As he walked over to the table the braided boy bumped against a chair. He cursed quietly and rubbed his aching shin. For a moment he considered shifting, to make use of his feline form's superior eyesight. But then he realized that the sorceress would probably sense the sudden burst of magic.

There was a noise. Something was moving at his right. Duo jerked his head around, and from the corner of the room he found a pair of yellow-golden eyes staring back at him.

_Another monster?_ He swallowed and reached for his dagger.

"Meow!" 

_A cat?!_ Duo snorted.

The animal leaped from the bookshelf, landed right at Duo's feet and started to rub its head on the boy's leg.

"You're quite a friendly little fellow, aren't ya?" He squatted down to pet the black cat, eliciting a content purr. "I'm Duo Maxwell, what's your name?"

Duo picked up the animal and scratched it behind the ears. With the cat in his arm he started to inspect the room. A few spell books and scrolls were lying on the table next to bottles and vials filled with odd looking liquids, and things Duo couldn't even identify. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know what they were. He picked up one of the scrolls and was just about to open it up, when he heard a noise from the corridor. He listened and heard the sound of footsteps. Somebody was approaching.   
Duo jumped into a dark corner and pressed himself between the wall and one of the heavy bookshelves, just as the door opened. As he peeked out from his hiding place he could see the form of a woman. 

Lady Catorce, the Emperor's sorceress.

Duo's mouth went dry, as she stopped in the doorway and gazed around the room suspiciously. Had she noticed him?

Suddenly the black cat jumped from his arm and dashed toward its mistress.

"There you are. Have you gotten yourself locked in once again?" the woman whispered softly, as she bent down and took the animal into her arm. "Poor little kitten, you must be starving. Let's go and find you something to eat."

As the sorceress walked away, Duo let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He waited a few moments just to make sure that she wasn't going to return before he left his hiding place. 

***

  
Trowa was waiting for him in his chamber. 

"Where have you been?" he asked, brows furrowed. "I told you not to leave this room, didn't I?"

"No, you told me not to get into trouble. And I didn't." Duo gave him an impish smile.

"So, where were you?" Trowa repeated his questions.

"I took a walk." His friend flopped onto the large bed.

"A walk?"

"Through the castle," Duo explained. "And you won't believe what came across." He grabbed the prince by the arm and pulled him down next to him on the bed, before he started to tell him what he had found in the basement. 

Trowa didn't interrupt Duo, but he had a look of disbelief on his face, when the braided boy told him about the armor clad statue that had suddenly come to life and tried to attack him. "Duo, are you sure you didn't accidentally end up in the wine cellar and had a few too many sips from the wrong bottle"

Duo snorted, offended by his friend's comment. "I'm not drunk. And I'm not crazy either. I know what I saw, Believe it or not."

Trowa could tell that his friend was upset. "I'm sorry, Duo," he said. "But you have got to admit it sounds rather farfetched."

"I know it does, but I also know what I saw. Whatever this thing is down there, it is dangerous and I'm sure there is a reason why they keep it locked away. But if you don't believe me, we can go and I can show it to you."

"I won't go, and neither will you, Duo," the prince replied seriously. "Going down there once was dangerous enough. Obviously they are trying to keep this thing a secret. There is no saying what Tubarov or his sorceress would do if they were to find out that we know about it. By the way, I think I know what the emperor is up to."

The braided boy gave Trowa a questioning look. "What is it?"

"I just learned that he is sending fifteen-hundred soldiers to Crownwood. He is stationing them near the border to Sank."

Duo's eyes widened. "He is using Crownwood to gather his troops for an invasion on Sank."

Trowa nodded solemnly. "I'm not sure if my uncle is too blind to realize that, or if he is working together with Tubarov."

*****

"You are leaving…already?" the emir asked. "I thought you would stay for at least a few more months. We've barely had time to get to know each others. And what about your sisters? Can't you at least stay for their sake if not for me?"

"I'm sorry, Father," Quatre said quietly. "I have to go. I need to get back to Sank as quick as possible. I've told you about those dreams I'm having."  
Four days ago his dreams had started, and he had them every night since. Horrible nightmares and visions that made him fear for the lives of his friends back in Sank

"If your dreams came true," his father replied, "and the Sank Kingdom is heading into war, that's one more reason for you to stay right where you are. You know that I'm strictly against war and violence."

"So is is the King of Sank, Father, but if his country is threatened he will defend it. And I need to be there with him." Quatre replied.

"What about this country? Surabia needs its prince, Quatre."

"Father, don't you understand that I'm not a prince? I don't know anything about politics or affairs of state. I've never learned to be prince." Quatre sighed. "Surabia has done very well without me for the past 10 years. I think it would be better for this country if Iria and her husband ruled Surabia after you, just like it was planned when you thought that I was dead."

The emir opened his mouth, but the blond mage stopped him before he could say anything. "Father, please don't make this harder than it has to be. I **will** leave, so much is sure. But I would much prefer if we would part on good terms this time."

After a long moment of silence the emir nodded. "I see you are just as stubborn as any member of this family. Very well then, I'll have Rashid put together your escort."

"My escort," Quatre echoed.

His father nodded. "You didn't think I'd let you travel back to Sank without the proper protection, did you?"

Quatre smiled softly. "Thank you, Father. I'll come back soon to visit, I promise."

***

Rashid came to see the young mage two days later.   

"These are the Maganacs I have chosen as your guards, Master Quatre." He handed Quatre a list of names. "Please have a look and let me know if they meet your approval."

"Thank you, Rashid. I'm sure they are perfect," Quatre replied as he started to read. He smiled softly as he found Abdul, Ahmad, Aura and several other Maganacs who he had met in Makhmed on the list.

"And with your permission, Master Quatre, I'll be leading your escort," Rashid continued. "I failed once to protect you, I won't let it happen again."

Quatre frowned. "You didn't fail, Rashid. Now stop talking like that. You did everything you could have done. And I would **love** to have you by my side when I return to Sank. I can't think of anybody I trust more than you."

"Thank you," Rashid answered humbly.

"When do you think the Maganacs will be ready? I would like to leave as soon as possible."

"They will arrive at the royal palace before nightfall. We can be ready to leave by tomorrow."

Quatre nodded, satisfied. "That sounds wonderful."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's notes:  
  


Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	17. The Princess and the Outlaw

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Part 12 - The Princess and the Outlaw

Zechs was riding next to Rens and Walker. The three men were scouting out the area where the White Fang was planning to set up camp. Only a few days earlier he had told his friends about his past. They were the only people in the group who knew who he really was. Zechs trusted them to keep that secret. He just thought that, if something was going to happen to him, it would be best if somebody knew his whole story.

They had been riding quietly for a while when Rens suddenly gazed up and frowned. "What is going on there?"

As he looked into the direction Rens indicated, Zechs noticed several people caught up in a sword battle. From what he could tell from this distance, two people were being attacked by several other men. He growled as he recognized the grey uniforms of imperial soldiers. Usually Tubarov's men did not come this deep into Whelshyre territory.

"Should we get involved?" Walker asked.

The blond nodded, as he pulled out his sword. "They are getting too bold. Seems to me that it is time that somebody shows them that they are not welcome here."

The pair seemed to be holding their ground rather well. They were fighting back to back. 

As he got closer, Zechs could make out a young lady with light-brown, shoulder long hair, dressed in leather garb. Next to her stood a young man with shorter, black hair, wearing a similar outfit.

The imperial soldiers noticed Zechs and his men approach. Somehow one of them managed to seize the young lady and pull her into the saddle in front of him. As he and several other soldiers took off, Zechs ordered Rens and Walker to follow them, while he charged the remaining attackers. He run the first one of them through with his sword, then struck down another one as he tried to escape. The black-haired stranger took care of the last soldier. When the fight was over he dropped to his knees, exhausted and panting. As Zechs dismounted he raised his head and only then the blond knight realized that the young man was actually a young lady; but not just any young lady.

Zechs recognized her instantly, although it had been years since the last time he had seen her. She looked worn out, but she had the same sparkle of determination, fury and defiance in her eyes, as she did back when they first met. 

::: Begin flashback:::

Milliardo and Heero were sitting in a large pile of fresh straw. The barn had become their newest hiding spot, and the servants in the castle had yet to discover it. It was warm up here and quite comfortable. 

The two boys could hear somebody climb up the wooden ladder. A few moments later a young girl, perhaps Milliardo's age popped her head through the trap door. "What are you doing up here?" she asked.

The prince frowned. He had never met the girl before. "What are **you** doing here?"

She came all the way up the ladder and settled down in the straw next to the two boys before she answered. "I was bored. I saw you two climbing up here and wanted to see what you are doing. So, what **are** you doing?"

Milliardo shrugged. "Hiding."

"Hiding from whom?" she wanted t know.

"My father." 

"What did you do? Got yourselves in trouble?"

"We didn't do anything," Milliardo told her. "The king of Whelshyre and his daughter are visiting. My father wants us to attend the feast. But I'm rather sitting here than spending another evening in the company of some stuck-up, dim-witted princess."

The dark-haired girl scowled as she jumped up. Before the prince knew it she slapped him across the face, hard enough to leave an angry red mark.

He looked at her baffled and irritated. "What was that for?"  
"That was for calling me dim-witted," she snapped, fury sparkling in her dark eyes. "And as for stuck-up… If you want to see somebody who is stuck up, perhaps you should look into a mirror." She turned on her heels and went back down the ladder as fast as her long dress allowed it. 

Milliardo's jaw dropped. He rubbed his burning cheek as he stared after her. Behind him he could hear Heero snigger.  
  


::: End Flashback :::

  
Zechs smiled softly at that memory. He still remembered how amazed he had been by the spirited young girl. He had tried to apologize later that evening for his remark, but very much to his dismay, she hadn't even acknowledged his presence. Nearly ten years had passed since that day, and he wondered if she even remembered him.

***

Princess Noin looked up at the young man who had come to her aid. She was almost sure that he wasn't one of her father's knights. But of course it was hard to tell, since his face was hidden beneath a silvery mask. A soft smiled curved his lips. For a brief moment she wondered what he was smiling about.

"You should not be out here by yourself, Princess. These are dangerous times." he said; as he extended his hand ho help her up. His voice was deep and smooth; a very pleasant voice.

The princess frowned. "How do you know who I am?"

The young man just shrugged. "Doesn't everybody?"

She took his hand and rose to her feet, still holding her bloodstained sword.

"Are you alright?" he asked.  
"I'm fine." She nodded, as she looked around anxiously. "But I'm concerned about my shield maiden."

"My men will bring her back," he assured her. "Don't worry." 

"You saved my life, Sir. I'm deeply in your debt," she said.

"It was my pleasure," he told her, as he placed a soft kiss on the top of her hand. "Who wouldn't want to safe such a lovely young lady as yourself, your Highness?"

 The princess blushed slightly. _Oh god, he is charming._

"Did you have horses?"

"We did." Noin sighed. "They took off as the battle begun. I'm sure that they didn't run very far, though."

As the princess sheathed her sword she felt a ripple of pain running through her upper right arm, and as she looked she saw that the sleeve of her tunic was ripped and bloody.

He noticed it too. "You are bleeding, Princess. Please, let me take a look at it."  
She was amazed how gentle he was as he cut away the garment and examined the wound.

"I think you will live," he gave her a soft smile. "It's only a flesh wound. But you should have your healer look at it once you get back to the palace. I still don't understand how your father would allow you to take a ride without an escort and put yourself in such danger."

"My father has no idea about this," she admitted. "Sally and I just wanted to spend some time alone."

"I see."

"Of course you don't understand. You don't know what it feels like to be surrounded by guards at every waking hour of the day."

His smile grew into a smirk. "But I **do** understand, Princess; better than you might imagine."

The princess turned her head at the sound of hoof beat to see three riders approaching. She was pleased to recognize her shield maiden among them. Noin would have never been able to forgive herself if anything had happened to her. Sally was more than just a servant to her; she was her friend and closest confidant.   
  


***

Sally had no idea who the strangers were or where they had come from. She was just grateful for their help. The two men had helped her take out every last of her attackers, and had caught one of their horses for her.

The young woman was eager to get back to where she had left Princess Noin. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Noin was safe and unharmed. When she got closer however, her relief turned to shock in a heartbeat, as she recognized the tall man with the silvery mask next to the princess. He was holding her hand and she was smiling at him. Didn't she realize who she was talking to? Everybody in the castle was talking about the crimes he and his men had committed.

Sally drew her sword as she dismounted.

"Take you hands from the princess," she demanded sharply.

"Sally!" the princess exclaimed in surprise.

"You Highness, don't you know who this man is?" Sally asked. "He is Zechs Merquise, the leader of White Fang."

***

Noin felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She pulled away and her expression went from surprised to shocked, as she looked at the young man questioningly.

_That is not possible. This well-mannered and charming young man can't possible be the bloodthirsty outlaw, Zechs Merquise. This has to be a mistake. Why doesn't he say something? Why doesn't he speak up and tell Sally does she is wrong._

But then, of course, she realized that he didn't deny the accusation, because it was the truth.

She glared at him angrily. "How dare you? How dare you come here and act like a Good Samaritan after what you did in Huntsville only a few days ago."

"Huntsville?" he asked.

"Oh right," she spat. "You probably have plundered and burned down so many towns that you don't even remember their names."

"Princess, I don't know what you are talking about."

"So, you are denying that you and your men attacked the town, robbed and killed most of the villagers before burning everything to the ground? Then, Sir, you not only a murderer, but also a cowardly liar….

His jaws closed tightly for a brief moment. Those blue eyes turned to ice behind his mask. His voice was sharp enough to cut steel as he replied. "I assure you that I have not done any of those things you are accusing me off. I might have done many things in my life, but murdering an unarmed or innocent man is not one of them. And if one of my men would ever partake in such heinous actions I would kill him myself."

Noin blinked. There was something about the way he reacted that made her think that he could be speaking the truth. He didn't deny that he was a criminal, but he seemed offended that she accused him of killing innocent people. Even Sally seemed surprised. 

"Then tell me; if not you, who is responsible for those crimes?" the princess asked, a little less fiercely.

"Most likely the same people who just tried to kidnap or kill you, your Highness," he replied.

"Tubarov's troops have been attacking villages for a long time," Sally remarked. "Why would they go through the trouble of making it seem like your men were the assailants?"

"They would do anything to rid themselves of me and the White Fang. And since they can't beat us honorably, they try to defame us and turn the town's people against."

Noin's brows furrowed. It seemed plausible. Was he really telling the truth?

Zechs Merquise looked up into the sky. "The sun will be setting soon. You better head back home, Princess. Once night falls it will be even more dangerous out here. You can take my horse," he offered.

"Thank you, but I can ride with my shield maiden."

"I insist," he replied. "If you should run in any more trouble on your way back to the castle, you will have a greater chance of escape with two horses."

He was right of course. The princess gave him a curt nod. "Thank you."

He helped her into the saddle. The gelding was rather large, and she was not of very tall statue.

"Thank you," Noin repeated before she and Sally rode off.  
  


*****

Three days had passed since his meeting with Princes Noin, and Zechs was doing his best to put the incident out of his mind.

He was just about to sit down for supper when Rens reported that the lookouts had spotted and captured a suspicious person near the camp.

"Bring him to me," he ordered.

"Actually, it's not a **he**," Rens replied with a strange grin on his face. "I think you will be surprised."

He left and when he came back a few moments later with the captive, Zechs knew what he meant.

"Princess Noin, what are you doing here?" the blond exclaimed. "How did you find this place?"

"I didn't your horse did," she replied with a slight smirk.

_I don't believe it_, Zechs thought with a fair amount of respect. _Not too many people would've thought of that._

"I came to return him," Noin continued. "He is a fine animal and I thought you might want him back. I also…I feel that I should apologize to you."

He frowned. "What for?" 

"For accusing you of all those terrible things. I was able to talk to a few of the surviving villagers and it seems as though you were correct about Tubarov's men being behind those attacks." The princess gazed over at Rens and then back to Zechs. "Is it possible that we can talk somewhere in private?" she asked.

"There isn't much privacy around here, I'm afraid. But if you don't mind we can take a little walk," he offered.

She nodded. "I would love that."

Zechs rose and gestured for Rens to stay behind.

"Who are all those people?" Noin asked as they walked through the camp. "I mean where did they come from, and why are they following you?"

"Most of them come from towns and kingdoms that have already fallen to the Romefeller Empire. These people have lost everything, and since nobody else can offer them the justice they deserve, they have taken matters in their own hands."  
"And there is no other way to do that? You might not be looting villages, but you are still breaking the law. You group is wanted in Sank as well."

Zechs gave a quiet snort. "I don't expect you to understand, Princess. How could you? How could anybody understand what it feels like when, in the blink of an eye, you loose everything you ever had, your possessions, your family, your life? These people only want some revenge for what was done to them."

"Perhaps I don't know what they feel like. But I know that my father is trying to prevent a full blown war with the Romefeller Empire. But you and your men provoking Tubarov doesn't help very much." Noin told him, a fiery sparkle in her eyes.

"We are not trying to provoke him, we are keeping his troops in check," Zechs replied calmly. "Turning your head and letting the emperor nibble away at your borders will not prevent war for very long. It only allows him to become stronger and stronger, until he is ready for yet another invasion. Whelshyre wouldn't be the first kingdom that fell this way."

"Then what do you suggest my father should do? Lead sneak attacks against Romefeller like you do?"

"Nobody says that he should. But he could still take a page from the White Fang's book?"  
She looked at him puzzled.

Zechs smiled softly. "The members of White Fang did not only come all social standings, but also from many different kingdoms. We don't always agree on everything, but we put aside our differences and learned to fight together. If we can do that, why can't the rulers of those kingdoms that are threatened by the Romefeller Empire do the same? An alliance between them would send a strong and clear message to Tubarov. Attack one of us and you will have to deal with all of us. That would make him think twice about another invasion. Sometimes the show of force is what really leads to peace. I happen to know that the king of Sank has tried for years to form such an alliance, but with little success."

Noin shook her head. "Zechs Merquise, you amaze me," she confessed. "You are a mystifying man. What are you; a warrior or a diplomat?"

"One doesn't have to rule out the other, does it?" he replied.

"Perhaps not."

There was a long moment of silence as they walked next too each other through the forest, lost in thought.

"What about you?" The Princess suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?"

"When you talked about White Fang, you kept saying "these people", which tells me that you don't identify yourself with them. So, what's **your** story?"

_Darn, she really **is** bright. I will have to watch what I say around her. _

He shrugged. "It's a long and boring story really. Trust me, Princess; you wouldn't want to hear it."

****  
  


Noin was beaming as she returned from seeing Zechs. The two of them had been meeting regularly for the past few weeks. The princess was convinced now that he was not a villain. On contraire, she had come to realize that he was a very caring and kindhearted person.

Noin still didn't know much about him, thought. She had asked him a few times about his family and upbringing, but he had always been very evasive with his answers. And finally he had asked her not to question him about it anymore. She had agreed and had all intents to honor his request.

As usually the princess has sneaked out of the castle without the knowledge of her father or her guards. Sally helped her, as she climbed through the window into her bedchamber. Noin took off her dark, hooded cloak and handed it to her shield maiden.

"How was it? Tell me everything." Sally demanded.

The princess laughed. "Oh, it was fantastic. He is the most wonderful person I have ever met. We rode down to Silver Lake and took a boat out onto the water. He had brought some food and we had a little feast right there in the middle of the lake."

Sally sighed. "How romantic! Has he taken off his mask yet? Is he handsome?" she wanted to know.

Noin shook her head. "No yet, he hasn't."

"Didn't you ask him to?"

"Of course not," the princess relied. "I'm sure he has his reasons for wearing it. I would not want him to feel self-conscious. Besides, it really doesn't matter who he is or what he looks like. It's more important how we feel toward each other. I like the way he treats me. He makes me feel like a lady without trying to dominate me. He gives me affection without smothering me. He is just the perfect gentleman."

"Is he a good kisser?"

Noin blushed. "Sally, you are prying."

The young woman smirked. "I'll take that as a yes."

The princess didn't answer, but smiled softly as she remembered they first kiss.

::: Begin Flashback :::

"I'm afraid this is as far as I can accompany you," Zechs said as they reached the edge of the forest. "Good night, Noin. I had a wonderful time."

"Zechs, when will you stop being such a perfect gentleman?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"For god sake, we have been seeing each other for five weeks now and you haven't once asked me for a kiss," the princess complained. "I'm starting to believe that you think I'm not attractive enough."

"Noin, please. You are the most attractive woman I have ever met. But you are the princess of Whelshyre, I'm only…"

She put her finger over his mouth. "Hush. Stop talking so much and kiss me finally."

Zechs smirked. "As you wish, your Highness." He moved his horse closer to her mount, reached out and embraced her with one of his strong arms. As he pulled her close he leaned in and captured her mouth in a tender kiss.

Noin moaned softly, as she melted into his embrace.

  
::: End Flashback :::

"I can't wait to see him again." 

Sally smiled. "You sound like you are in love."

"I think I am," the princess sighed. "I just hope that he feels the same way about me."

"He puts his life in danger every time he comes to see you, your Highness. What bigger confession of love do you need?"

Noin looked at her shield maiden, somewhat startled. "My god, I never even thought of that. But you are right. Perhaps we should be more careful, and not meet as often."  
  


*****

Sally sat on the sill of the window and watched, as the seamstress fitted princess Noin for her new ball gown.

"Would you like me to add red or blue velvet trimmings, your Highness?" the woman asked.  
The princess looked at the fabric samples, and then at her shield maiden for help. "What do you think, Sally?"

"Blue, definitely blue, it brings out the color of your eyes."

"Very well, blue it will be."

The seamstress nodded. "As your wish, your Highness."  She helped Noin out of the half finished garment.  
"I shall have it ready for the final fitting by tomorrow," she said.

"Thank you, Molly."

As the seamstress bowed and retreated, Sally sighed. "Can you believe that Anna Marie is getting married? It seems like only yesterday that the three of us were playing together in the courtyard."

"Yes, those were great times. I'm sure she is very happy. Lord William is such a wonderful man."

Sally nodded. "I agree. I'm surprised thought it took him so long to finally ask her to marry him. He courted her long enough."

"Hmmm…At least he did. Sometimes I wonder if anybody will ever ask for my hand."

"In general, or are you talking about somebody specific?" the blond maiden asked. "A mysterious, masked young man for example?"

Noin laughed. "Could you imagine explaining **that** to my father?"

"Yes, that would be quite… interesting. But speaking of Zechs, does he know that you will be leaving for a trip. You won't be able to meet him this week."

"No, I didn't know myself the last time I saw him. But you are right, I should let him know. I don't want him to worry if I don't show up." The princess walked over to the window. On a table stood a large cage and inside the cage was a beautiful falcon. Zechs had given her the bird. In case that she ever needed to get in touch with him, he had told her, she could send the falcon. The animal would find him.

"Sally, bring me some paper and ink please," she ask as she opened the cage. Noin took a piece of meat from a small silver bowl on the table and offered it to the bird. He grabbed it with his talons and started to rip it apart with his sharp beak.

*****

"Stupid bird," Nichols growled as he looked up. A falcon was soaring over his head. The animal's cry had chased away the rabbit he had been trying to shoot. Angrily the man raised his bow and fired at the falcon. The bird gave another shriek as the arrow hit it. The falcon plunged down only a few feet from Nichols. When it hit the ground the man noticed the leather straps around its talons. 

"Damn it," he cursed, as he realized that he hadn't shot a wild bird. _Zechs is going to kill me when he finds out that I killed his falcon. I better get rid of it. _

Nichols bent down to pick the animal up and dispose off it, and saw a small piece of paper tied to one of its legs. He removed it and grinned wickedly, as he read the short message.

_This is my lucky day, I suppose. _He thought_ If somebody was to capture Zechs while he is waiting for his sweetheart, no one could ever prove that I had anything to do with it. _

"What are you doing there, Nichols?"

He spun around, startled. He didn't expect anybody else to be around.

Berch, another White Fang member, stood only a few feet away. He looked at Nichols, then the dead falcon on the ground and finally back at Nichols. "What the hell are you doing?" he repeated.

"None of your business," the ex-imperial soldier growled.

Berch frowned at him. "That's Zechs' bird isn't it? Why did you kill it? And what do you got there?" He stepped forward and ripped the paper from Nichols' hand. His frowned turned into a scowl as he read it. "What the hell were you planning on doing with it, your son of a bitch?"

"Stupid fool," Nichols growled. Faster than Berch could react he pulled his dagger and lurched forward. 

The tall man made a gurgling sound as the blade cut through his windpipe. His eyes went wide and he dropped to his knees. His right hand went to his neck. Somehow he managed to pull the dagger from the terrible wound before he collapsed.

Nichols stood over him and watched indifferently as the man bled to death within moments. 

*****

Rens and Walker left camp together with Zechs. A few miles south they parted. As the blond knight rode off to meet with the princess, the other two men continue their patrol. They were already on their way back when Walker noticed something at the side of the road in the deep underbrush. They stopped their horses and dismounted.

As he stepped closer they realized that it was the body of a man. The grass beneath him was soaked in dried blood. It looked like he was dead for at least a day or two.

"That's one of our men. Berch I believe was his name. I wonder what happened to him."

As Walker turned over the body, Rens noticed the bloody dagger in the grass. He frowned as he picked it up.

"That's Nichols' weapon."

"Are you sure?"

Rens nodded. "I questioned him about it once. See all that décor? It's a ceremonial dagger, given by the emperor personal to a soldier for distinctive bravery in battle. I asked Nichols were he got it from and he said he took it off one of Tubarov's men. Do you think he killed Berch?"

"It looks like it," Walker said. As he crouched down next to the body, he noticed something in the dead man's left hand. It was a piece of paper; a letter or message of sort. Walker pried the hand open and removed the paper. It was drenched in dried blood and hard to read. But from what he could make out, it was addressed to Zechs. 

"It's a message from the princess to Zechs," he told Rens.

"What does it say?"

"Not much. Just that she is leaving on a trip with her father and won't be able to see Zechs this week." He looked up. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I," Rens agreed. "I think Nichols killed him over this letter. Zechs was right."

"Right about what?"

"Shortly after the attack at Silver Creek Zech told me that he thought that somebody inside White Fang killed our guards. They didn't sound the alarm because they knew the person who approached them and by the time they realized what was going on it was too late. He said that he suspected Nichols, but I told him that I couldn't imagine Nichols being a traitor. Obviously I was wrong," Rens scowled. "He sold us out back then and I'm afraid he is doing he same now to Zechs. We have got to warn him."

*****

Zechs was late to arrive at their usual meeting place, at the edge of the forest. He fully expected that Noin would be already there, waiting for him, and was surprised when he didn't see her. He didn't think too much off it though. Perhaps she too was running late. 

He was just about to dismount when a few dozen soldiers, wearing the blue and grey uniforms of Whelshyre's royal guard, broke from their hiding places and surrounded him. Zechs cursed quietly as he reached for his weapon. He decided to flee rather than fight. Noin would never forgive him if he was to kill some of her father's soldiers. As he was trying to turn his horse around, somebody got hold of his reins. Zechs knocked the man out with the hilt of his sword, and kicked away another one, when suddenly he was grabbed from behind and pulled out of the saddle. Zechs hit the ground hard. The impact knocked the air out of him and left him dizzy for a moment. He shook his head, but before he was able to clear his mind, he was swarmed by half a dozen soldiers. 

They held him down and somebody forced the sword from his hand. His arms were pulled behind his back and he could feel cold metal on his arms as they slapped chains around his wrists. He was grabbed and roughly hauled to his feet.

"Excellent work!" a tall man said, as he looked Zechs up and down. "His Highness will be pleased when he hears of this. I shall inform him as soon as he returns. Let's take this bastard to the palace."

"Get moving." Somebody pushed Zechs in the back, a little harder than necessary, to make him move.

"Easy," Zechs growled, and was rewarded with another push.

"Shut up," somebody told him. It was obvious that the soldiers felt little affection for him.  
  


*****

Rens and Walker arrived at the scene just in time to watch as Zechs was chained up and prodded away. They halted their horses at a save distance to make sure that they weren't seen.  
As Walker reached for his sword, his companion grabbed his arm. "What do you think you are you doing?"

"We can't just let them take him away."

"Walker, there are too many of them. There is nothing we can do for him now. We only would get ourselves killed or captured too."

Walker sighed as he dropped his head. He knew that Rens was right. But there had to be some way to help Zechs. Once he was taken to the royal palace there was no way that the White Fang could free him. Well, perhaps not the White Fang…

Walker looked up. "You head back and warn the others," he told Rens. 

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"I'll see if I can get an audience with the king of Sank."   
  


*****

The princess closed her eyes with a content sigh as she stretched out in the large wooden bathtub. It was nice to be home again and enjoy all the luxury that came with it; like taking a long, hot bath.

"Princess Noin…"

Startled, Noin slipped deeper into the water, as the door to the bath chamber suddenly flew open. 

"What in gods name? Have you forgotten how to knock, Sally?" she asked with a frown, as she recognized her shield maiden.

"Forgive me, your Highness," Sally replied with a quick curtsy. "It's Zechs. He has been captured. I don't know much detail though."

The princess paled. "Was he injured? Where is he?"

"He is locked up, down in the dungeon. They caught him four days ago. I heard the guards talk about it."

"Hand me a towel, please." Noin rose and Sally wrapped one of the large towels around her.

The princess dried herself off and quickly got dressed. Her heart was beating wildly as she hurried down to the dungeon.

"Princess Noin, what are you doing down here?" the warden asked her.  
"I'm here to see one of the prisoners; a man by the name Zechs Merquise."

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not very good wit names, I'm afraid."

"The leader of White Fang." She sounded impatient. "He was brought here four days ago, I was told."

"Oh yes, him."

"I want to speak to him. Open his cell for me."

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to do that without the king's permission, your Highness. He is considered very dangerous."

"Very well, just show me to his cell then."

***

"Zechs!"

He raised his head at the sound of her voice.

"Princess, what are you doing here?"

The back of the cell, where Zechs was sitting, was draped in shadow. He was resting on a pile of straw, with his back against the wall. He knew that from where she was standing Noin could barely see him in the dim light. It was a good thing, as far as he was concerned. He didn't want her to see him like this; chained up like a dangerous animal.

They had taken away his mask along with his armor and weapons. His clothes were dirty and he smelled of sweat and blood, and probably a few other things considering that he was locked up down here for several days already.  
"I just found out about your capture. I'm so sorry, Zechs. I knew that you put yourself in danger every time you came to see me. This would have never happened if I would not have been so selfish…"

"Princess, please," he told her. "You have no reason to beat yourself up over this. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the risk involved. And if I had to do it over I wouldn't change a thing. The time we spent together was worth anything that may come."

Noin blushed slightly. "Are you alright? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

He shook his head. "I'm not hurt," he assured her. "But there is something you need to know about me, Princess. Something I should have told you a long time ago, I suppose. I'm not really the person that you think I am."

She frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about, Zechs?"

He didn't answer. There was a long moment of silence, then he sighed. "Perhaps I should show you what I mean."  
Zechs rose to his feet. His chains weren't long enough for him to reach the door, but he could move a few feet; far enough that she could see his face.

For a moment she just stood there, staring at him. Then her eyes widened as she recognized him. "You? But how… I've heard that you are dead."

"I'm not." Zechs stated matter-of-factly.

"I can see that," she snapped angrily. "But why did you deceive me all this time. Why did you pretend to be somebody else?"

"I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to find out."

The princess gave a very un-ladylike snort. "Well, thank you for at least being honest with me for once." 

"What I mean, is that you weren't supposed to find out like this. I meant to tell you, but you've got to understand…"

"Understand? How can I understand? I'm just a stuck-up and dim-witted princess, remember?" She gave him one last hurt and angry glare before she turned on her heels and walked away.

"Princess, wait! Please let me try to explain," he called after her. "Noin!"  
  


***

"Are you alright, Princess?" Sally asked, concerned, as Noin walked into her chamber. The princess looked angry and upset.

The princess settled into an armchair by the fireplace before she told Sally what she had just found out about Zechs.

The young woman was as surprised as Noin had been. "The crown prince of Sank is wanted by his own people because he became an outlaw? Did he tell you why?"

"I don't care. I never want to see that two-face swindler again."

"What happened to: 'Who he is isn't important. The only thing that matters is the way how we feel about each other'?" her shield maiden asked.

Noin scowled. "That was when I thought that he was a commoner, and that he was hiding his face because he was scarred and ugly."

"Oh that makes sense," Sally replied sarcastically. "Now that you found out that he is actually a handsome prince you can't possible love him anymore."

"Sally, you are way out of line," the princess snapped.

The young woman lowered her head. "Forgive me, your Highness."  
There was a moment of silence, before Noin spoke quietly. "He lied to me. He deceived me from the very beginning. How could I ever trust him again? How can I know that anything else he told me weren't lies as well?"

"What's going to happen to him?"

"I'm not sure," the princess admitted. "But I know that he didn't do those terrible things he is accused off. I don't think he is capable of killing innocent people." She rose from her chair, resolution in her eyes. "I need to talk to my father. Zechs saved my life. It's time that I return the favor."  
  


***

Captain Lensar was leaving the king's study just as the princess came to see her father. She assumed that the captain had informed him about Zechs. Noin knocked at the door, and after the king's request to come in, stepped into the room.

"I have to talk to you, Father."

"About what?" he asked somewhat surprised. They just had spent the last eight hours talking on their ride home. "About Zechs Merquise. I assume you know that he was captured."

"Captain Lensar just told me that much, but what do you know about him?"

Noin sighed as she sat down in the chair across from her father. "I think I know something not even the captain could tell you; his real name?"

"What do you mean?" the king frowned. "Noin, you are speaking in riddles."

"Zechs Merquise is really Prince Milliardo Peacecraft." 

Her father opened his mouth t speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. "Before you tell me that I'm out of my mind, I suggest you go to the dungeon and see for yourself."

The king looked at his daughter with slight amusement. "What I **was** going to say was. How do you know that?"

"Because I was just down there myself."

"Milliardo Peacecraft you say; the crown prince of Sank? How is that possible? He is supposed to be dead. What is his connection with White Fang? Aren't they wanted in Sank as well? Oh, what a mess," he groaned. "And I don't even want to think about how the king of Sank might react when he learns that I have his son locked up in my dungeon."

"There is something else you need to know, Father," the princess said quietly. "Zechs and I have been seeing each other since early spring."

"What?" The king almost jumped from his chair. "I think that deserves some kind of explanation."

"It's a rather long story, Father."

"I have time."

*****

  
Lady Catorce glared at the image of her brother in one of her looking glasses. His hair was damp and tousled, and he was wearing only a pair of black trousers.

"What do you want, Sister dearest?" he asked. "Better make it short. It is late, and I'm in the middle of something."

"You told me that the crown prince of Sank was dead," she growled. "Then how do you explain that one of my informants just reported to me that he is alive and well at the Royal Palace in Whelshyre?"  

"He is alive? I'm impressed. I could have sworn he wouldn't make it through the night when I left him." Ysard shrugged nonchalantly. "He is such a handsome young man. I really liked him. My loss I suppose."

His sister snorted. "Is that all you have to say?"

He gave another shrug. "What do you want from me? The prince was never part of our deal to begin with. You paid me only to capture Hero Yuy, which I did. Is it my fault that your brainless soldiers let him escape? Of course if you want me to get rid of him, I can do that. But it will cost you."

"Thank you, but this time I'll take care of it myself. At least then I know it will be done right?"

__________________________________________________________________________________________  
  


T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	18. Celebrations

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story  
__________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Part 13 – Celebrations

Quatre smiled as he passed the drawbridge and rode though the heavy gates into the courtyard of the royal palace. 

It had been a long trip. He felt exhausted but at the same time excited. Ironically this felt more like a coming home than his return to Surabia had. He couldn't wait to see his friends again, to tell them all about his journey and hear about everything had happened in Sank during his absence. He also wanted to talk to them about his dreams, which he believed to be premonitions.

Next to him, Abdul gasped in awe at the sight of all the people lined up in the courtyard to welcome Quatre. 

The young mage could see Heero and Relena, next to her father, the king, as well as Captain Treize and Wufei. He dismounted and smiled widely as he walked to his friends to greet them.

"Quatre, it's wonderful to see you again," King Stephán said. "We are glad that you made it back safe and sound."

"Thank you. I was well protected I assure you," Quatre replied and motioned toward the Maganacs. "My father wouldn't let me leave Surabia without a proper escort, as you can see, your Highness."

"I can't blame him. We live in dangerous times. I'll have quarters arranged for them so that they can rest before starting their long journey back."

Quatre gave the king a somewhat sheepish smile. "I'm afraid, your Highness, they won't be leaving; not as long as I'm here in Sank. They swore an allegiance for life to me when they became my guards."

"Oh… I see!" Stephán stroked his chin, thoughtfully. "In that case, I suppose we will have to find them some more permanent quarters."

"Thank you, your Highness. I'm sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble at all," the king assured him. 

"They wear strange uniforms. And where is their armor?" Heero asked as he curiously eyed the three dozen riders.

"The Maganacs don't wear armor. They rely on speed and agility during battle." Quatre laughed.

"Maganacs?" Treize echoed.

The blond mage nodded. "They are all members of the same tribe. Maganacs have been protecting my father's emirate since many generations. They are warriors who are trained since a very young age. The ultimate dream of every Maganac is to become a member of my father's elite guard."

"Interesting," Heero remarked.

"Yeah, I had a feeling that you would say that."

"Why don't we go inside?" the king suggested. "I had some refreshments prepared. You look exhausted, Quatre. You probably should try to get some rest; because tonight we will be properly celebrating your return."

*****

Zechs stood by the window, watching the hassle and bustle in the court yard. It was one of the few things he **could** do to kill time. Two days ago he had been moved from his cell to this chamber at the top level of the castle. The room wasn't very large but elegant and comfortable. Ironically, he hadn't lived in such luxury before his capture.

He hadn't seen Noin since the day she visited him in the dungeon. He wasn't sure if she was still angry at him – he couldn't blame her if she was – or if the king was keeping her away from him.

Zechs turned at the sound of the door being unlocked. A servant walked in with a tray of food in his hand, and with him two armed guards. Although his accommodations had changed, there was no question that the prince was still a prisoner.

"Just put it down on the table," Zechs said.

The man complied and left the room without speaking a word. Before the guards could follow him the blond knight stopped them.   
"Just a moment." He picked up a book from the nightstand next to his bed.

"I finished reading this. Perhaps I could have another one?"

The soldier nodded as he took the book. "I'll ask the king…Sir."

It was obvious that even the guards were confused about how to treat their high-level prisoner. The revelation of his identity had caused quite some stir and confusion in the castle.

As the guards left, they relocked the door. Zechs walked over to the table. He wasn't really hungry, but he sat down and ate anyway. He had to admit that the food was rather tasty. When he was a child he had never really liked stew very much. Heero on the other hand, loved it. But then again Heero had never complained, no matter what was put on the table. Zechs shook his head to ban those thoughts. Being here at the castle and the fact that he had too much time to think, stirred up memories in him; memories that he had been able to keep at bay for so long.

*****

The celebrations in honor of Quatre's return lasted till late into the night. The scrumptious feast was followed by entertainment and dancing. As the evening progressed some of the guest retreated to their sleeping quarters, others had to be hauled off by their servants, because they were to drunk to walk on their own.

Treize ran his hand through Wufei's soft hair, as they watched the minstrels. The young man sat at his feet with his head resting comfortable in his master's lap. 

The captain dipped his head and whispered into the wizard's ear: "I don't think anybody would notice if we were to leave now."

Wufei gave him a somewhat surprised look. "Are you tired already?"

Treize smiled. "Actually I had planned a little more private celebration for the two of us in our quarters."

"Is that so? Well, how could I ever refuse your request?" the young wizard replied with a smirk. "You are my master after all."

"Let's go then, shall we?"

"You said something about a private celebration," Wufei said as he opened the door to their chamber and lit the candles in the room with a flick of his wrist. "What is the occasion?"

"You really don't know?" the captain asked.

The younger man frowned as he thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.

Treize smile softly. "It's been three years to the day that I bought you."

Wufei seemed surprised. "Really? I can't believe it's been that long already."

The captain nodded as he embraced the young wizard and kissed him tenderly. "Time has been flying, hasn't it?" he said once their lips parted. "And I never regretted for a single moment that I bought you."

Wufei snorted in amusement. "Not even in the beginning?"

"Well, perhaps that time when you tried to choke me with your chain." Treize chuckled. "Or when you almost broke my jaw…or when…"

"Alright, alright already. I had to ask, didn't I?" Wufei laughed. He put his arms around the captain's neck and pulled his head down. He gently brushed his lips over his lover's then put a trail of soft kisses along the older man's jaw. "Perhaps," he breathed between kisses. "I can make up now for being such a terrible slave back then."

"You never were terrible; just frightened and angry," Treize replied. He shuddered as the young wizard nipped at his earlobe. "Let's hold this for just a moment. There is something I want to give you." He freed himself from Wufei's embrace and stepped over to the table. He picked up a wooden box and handed it to the young man.

"May I open it?"

The captain nodded. "By all means."

As Wufei flipped open the top his brows furrowed. Inside the box lay his collars, the leather one as well as the metal one he had worn when Treize bought him, and beneath them a piece of paper. He looked at the captain, puzzled. "What am I supposed to do with them?"

"Whatever you want," Treize told him with a soft smile. "You won't need them anymore. You are free."

Wufei's jaw dropped. He swallowed, then opened and closed his mouth a few time before he managed to stammer: "You…I…I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," the captain told him. "I should have done this a long time ago, Wufei, but I was too scared. I'm sorry."

"Too scared?" The young wizard stared at him bewildered.

"I was afraid that I might lose you; that you would leave once you had the choice," Treize explained. "But I thought that if I don't let you go I'll never know if you really care for me, or if we have nothing but a master and slave relationship. I **do** hope that you will stay though."

"Care for you?" Wufei set down the box. "Would you like me to show you how much I care for you, Captain Treize?" he asked suggestively.

"Yes, I think I would love that." Treize dipped his head and pressed his mouth against Wufei's. The young wizard closed his eyes as parted his lips invitingly. The older man moaned softly as he plundered the hot cavern of Wufei's mouth with his tongue. His lover's hands slipped beneath his tunic and started to move slowly up and down his torso. With nimble finger's Treize untied the sash that held Wufei's trousers up. As the pants dropped down, his hand moved deeper, fondling the firm flesh of his lover's manhood through the fabric of his undergarment.

Wufei squirmed, and groaned against the captain's lips. As they finally broke their kiss both men were panting breathlessly. They continued to exchange soft nips and kisses as they undressed each other. Moments later they settled onto the large bed.

"Let me take care of you tonight," the young man breathed into Treize's ear. Wufei pulled the warm quilt over their naked bodies, then disappeared beneath it. He parted the captain's legs and knelt between them.

Treize moaned and closed his eyes in delight as the young wizard run his fingers over his chest and abdomen. He could feel his lover's hot breath on his bare skin. A hand slipped between his thighs and fondled his firm shaft. Treize felt himself hardening with each slow stroke of the young man's hand. He was floating in a sea of bliss when an unexpected knock at the door startled the two lovers. 

"Captain Treize, Sir? His Highness needs to see you."

The captain's eyes flew open. "Now?" he asked. _Does he know what time it is?_

"Yes, Sir. He said it was important."

Treize groaned inwardly. Then he shuddered, because Wufei run his fingertips along the inside of his thighs, dangerously close to his manhood. He had to clear his throat before he could ask: "Would you happen to know what this is about?" 

"I'm not certain, Sir, but it might have something to do with the young man who arrived at the palace and demanded to see the king. He said he came with news about Prince Milliardo."

Treize jumped up and reached for his pants. "Tell the king, I'll be right there."

Wufei's head appeared from beneath the covers, a pout on his lips.

Treize sighed. "I'm sorry, dear."

"I know," the young wizard replied. "It's not your fault."  
The captain tied the strings on his tunic and slipped into his boots. He reached for his sword belt leaned over the bed for one last, brief but affectionate, nuzzle. "I'll be back as fast as possible," he promised. 

"I'll be waiting for you."

***

Then young man who stated to have news about the crown prince introduced himself as Walker to the king. He claimed that he had been together with Milliardo as recently as a week ago.

"Is Milliardo alive?" King Stephán asked anxiously. 

The man was still kneeling in front of the king. He nodded. "Yes, your Highness. He was still alive the last time I saw him."

Stephán breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He had worried that some day somebody would come to tell him that the prince had been killed. And when Walker arrived he had feared that that day might have come. Milliardo as still his son, and he loved him, no matter what. "Then tell me, what is the news that you bring about my son?"

"Milliardo was captured six days ago near the royal palace in Whelshyre," Walker reported. He told the king and Treize everything that had occurred.

"But you don't know what happened to him after he was taken to the castle."

Walker shook his head, as he looked at the captain. "No, Sir. I left for Sank soon after his capture."

"You know that you are wanted here, and yet you came to bring me this news. That's very courageous of you, young man," Stephán remarked. 

"I would like to believe that Zechs would do the same for me, your Highness."

"My son is very fortunate to have such brave and devoted friends."

"He is a brave man himself, your Highness, and an excellent leader," Walker replied.

"You must be exhausted. I'll have my guards take you to your quarters. You do understand that I can't allow you to roam the palace by yourself. You are confined to your room."

Walker nodded. "I understand, your Highness. That's more than I had expected," he confessed.

The king gestured for his guards to escort the young man to his quarters.

Treize waited until they had left before he spoke. "Do you think we can trust him, your Highness?"

"I **believe **him. I don't know him well enough to go as far as to say that I trust him," the king replied. "I want Wufei to put a confinement spell around his quarters."

The captain nodded. "I'll have him put it up first thing in the morning. And with your permission, your Highness, I would like to travel to Whelshyre. Perhaps the king would be willing to negotiate Prince Milliardo's release."

"I was hoping you would say that, Sir Treize." Stephán responded. "You do realize that you could only take a small number of men with you, don't you? I would not want it to seem like a show of force."

Treize gave another nod. "Yes, I realize that."

*****

From a window in the main hall Princess Noin and her father were watching, as Zechs Merquise, or Prince Milliardo for that matter, was let from the castle.

After thorough considerations the king had decided to return his prisoner to Sank and let the people there deal with their wayward prince on their own. This way he was hoping not only to avoid a conflict between his kingdom and Sank, but also to keep his daughter happy, who seemed to have fallen hard for the young man.

She didn't look very happy now though, as she watched him mount his horse. It had been her decision not to visit him to say good bye. 

The king put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, reassuringly. "Noin, you've made the right decision. This is for the best, trust me. You'll probably never see each other again."

The princess looked at him. "That's what I had thought too. But now I'm not so sure anymore. If this was the right thing to do, why do I feel so miserable now? Why does it hurt so much to watch him leave?"  
He took her into his arms. "It will take some time, dear, but you will get over it," he told her.

What else was he supposed to say? The sad fact was that their relationship would have been doomed from the start, even under better circumstances. Whelshyre was a small kingdom, with little power and influence; but these were the things royal marriages were arranged for. Sank would gain nothing by marrying their crown prince to the princess of Whelshyre.

***

Two guards let Zechs from the room that had been his cell for the past week to the courtyard, where a group of two dozen soldiers on horseback were waiting. His own mount was saddled and waiting for him. He had been told the evening before that he was going to be returned to Sank.

As the blond knight mounted the white gelding he looked back toward the castle. He thought that somebody was watching him from behind one of the large stain glass windows, but he wasn't certain. He had hoped that Noin would at least come to say good bye, and give him a chance to apologize to her, but it never happened. 

The guards didn't take any chances. As soon as he was seated they tied his hands together and secured them to the saddle horn. 

*****

Quatre had asked Heero to meet him at the wizard's tower after his morning workout. He wanted to show the young knight the book he had brought back from his trip to Surabia. They settled around the large table. 

Quatre turned his head, as the door opened and Wufei walked into the room.

"Good morning, Wufei," he greeted the young wizard with a smile. "Did Captain Treize leave yet?"

Wufei nodded. "Yes, they just left. Good morning Quatre, good morning Heero."

"Did he take those protection charms you made for him?" the blond mage wanted to know.

"No," his friend grumbled. "He told me that he didn't need them, and pointed out that he **did** survive the first twenty-three years of his life without me trying to protect him. He better not get hurt, or I'll make him eat those words."

"The two of you are so cute together."

"I don't think Wufei likes to think of himself as cute," Heero remarked with a smirk. 

Quatre chuckled, but then he looked at Wufei and grew serious. "You really **are** worried about him, aren't you?"

"Maybe I'm just overreacting. For the past three years I have been always by his side."

"He is an excellent swordsman," the mage said. "Perhaps one of the best I have ever met. You shouldn't be concerned about him. His enemies should be worried."

"It's just…" Wufei glanced at Heero. "It's not so much his enemies I'm concerned about."

Heero frowned. "You are talking about Milliardo? Do you really think he would harm Treize? The two have been friends since childhood."

"Milliardo has done strange things before," the wizard replied.  
"But this time, Milliardo isn't under somebody' control," Quatre pointed out. He had learned all about the spell that had been put on the prince and how he had tried to kill Heero.

"We don't really know that, do we? For all we know, everything that happened could have been planned by somebody. I'll not be fully convinced that he is not under any spell until I see him face to face," Wufei declared as he walked over to the table where his friends were sitting. "But enough of that, what are the two of you looking at?"

"It's a book Quatre brought back from Surabia. It is somehow connected with the Knights of Destiny," Heero explained. "The only problem is that we can't read it."

Quatre nodded. "It's written either in a very strange language or some kind of code."

"Hmmm…" As the young wizard looked over his friend's shoulder, his brows furrowed. "That's interesting."

"Interesting? Have you seen this kind of writing before?"

"Indeed I have," Wufei confirmed. He stepped over to one of the large bookshelves and pulled out several scrolls. "I found those when I first started to clean up this place," he said, as he open them up and spread them out on the table.  
"You are right," Heero agreed. "This **is** the same kind of writing. Now if we just could find out how to read them. Isn't there anything you can do, Wufei; some kind of spell or so?"

Wufei laughed. "I wish it was that easy. But magic doesn't work that way."

*****

"Sir, did you have enough to eat?"

Zechs raised his head. The guard in front of him, he couldn't be possible older than seventeen years, looked at him questioningly. Obviously he had been assigned to take care of their captive's needs during their trip.

The blond prince nodded. "Yes thank you, I had enough." He gave the young man a tentative smile, as he handed him his empty plate. "However, I would like to stretch my legs a little before we move on, if that's possible."

"I'll ask the captain," the guard replied. He left to return just a few moments later. "The captain said it is alright as long as we stay in sight."

"Thank you." 

The young man removed the leather straps from the blond's ankles, and Zechs stretched his long limbs with a sigh of relief. For the past three days he had been bound whenever they weren't traveling.

"What's your name?" he asked the guard as they started to walk around the camp side.

The young man looked at him somewhat puzzled. Zechs smirked. "We will be traveling together for several more days. I can't call you "soldier" the whole time, now can I?"

"I suppose not. My name is Martin, Sir."

The two of them walked quietly for a while, and by the time they returned to the camp the other guards had already saddled the horses. Zechs mounted his gelding, and allowed himself to be tied up again.

It was a long and dull ride. The prince must have dozed off, because he was startled by sudden shouts and weapons' rustling. He was fully awake in an instant and realized that they were under attack. Apparently the assailants had been waiting for them just at the edge of the forest.

Zechs gave an angry grunt as he recognized the grey uniforms of imperial soldiers. He could see at least three dozen of them. Martin, the young soldier who was leading the prince's horse, had grown pale. He watched with wide eyes as his fellow guards fought for their lives.

"Cut my restraints and give me my sword." Zechs demanded.

"I… I'm not allowed to do that," Martin stammered.

Zechs scowled. "Unless we start to defend ourselves, we are all going to be killed."

The young man hesitated still. 

"Do you want to die?"  
Martin swallowed. His hands were trembling as he pulled his dagger and cut the leather straps around the prince's wrists, and handed him his sword.

Zechs felt sorry for him, but he knew there this wasn't the time to panic. "Follow me," he ordered firmly. "And make sure that you stay by my side."

"Yes, Sir."

Zechs raised his weapon and threw himself in the midst of the battle. He was immediately confronted by two imperial soldiers. The prince knocked one of them out of the saddle and fought the other one with his sword. Beside him, Martin was fighting against a tall soldier. In the heat of the battle an occasional glace was all Zechs could spare for the young man. He was bleeding from his left arm, but it looked like a minor wound, and he seemed to be holding his own.

Zechs cursed quietly as another wave of imperial soldiers joined the battle. Several of the men on his side were already down, and the rest of then had their hands full as it was. Things didn't look good. He turned his head a little.

"Martin."

"Sir?"

"When I give you a sign you turn your horse and head for the forest. Ride like the devil is after you and don't stop until you are absolutely sure that nobody is following you. I'll try to cover your back as much as I can."

"But Sir, I can't just…"

"You can and you will," Zechs' voice left no room for arguments. "Your king needs to know what happened here. Somebody has to survive to tell him. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

As the prince was waiting for the right moment to send the young man off, he suddenly heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Fan out and attack. Don't let anybody escape!"

_That voice?! It's impossible, I must be imagining things._ As Zechs turned around, he saw soldiers in blue and white uniforms and amongst them a tall man with tawny hair. A few moments later the man was at his side.

"Treize, how in the world did you get here?" he exclaimed.

The captain gave him a slight grin. "Let's finish this up before we start talking, shall we?" he suggested.

***

The captain and his men came at the right moment to change the outcome of the battle. Once the fight was over and all the wounded taken care off, Zechs was finally able to greet his old friend. 

"Treize I can't say I have ever been so glad to see you," he said. "But I don't understand. What are you doing here?"

"I was sent to take you back to the royal palace," the captain explained.

Zechs' expression turned dark. "As a prisoner?" he asked grimly. 

Treize didn't answer; instead he pulled a piece of paper from his saddlebag and handed it to the blond. The first thing Zechs noticed was his father's seal. He unfolded the paper and read it carefully. 

"A Royal Pardon?!" 

Treize nodded. "Every member of White Fang who is willing to put down his or her weapons now will no longer be considered a criminal in Sank."

"That's not good enough." Zechs shook his head. "This…," He gestured at the document. "Doesn't feed them or keep them warm in the winter. Those people lost everything, Treize. They need roofs over their heads and food on their tables."

"You should talk about this with your father and try to find a solution together. But for now a pardon will just have to do. Milliardo…" The captain looked at him seriously. "Your father opened the door for you. Why not use it instead of trying to go through the wall?"

Zechs sighed. "You are right, I'm sorry. But how are you planning to get this news out to the rest of the White Fang?" he asked. "If they followed my orders, they left our old campsite when they found out that I was captured. So, they could be anywhere right now."

"Actually, your friend Walker is taken care of that," Treize told him.

"Walker?" the prince echoed surprised.

The captain nodded. He told Zechs how Walker had showed up at the royal palace and informed the king about Zechs' capture. "I think that your father was very impressed by his conduct. As you know, loyalty means a great deal to the king."

"Yes, I know. It comes right after devotion to your kingdom, and willingness to sacrifice everything, including your own family, for the good of the kingdom." Zechs wasn't able to keep a hint of bitterness out of his voice.

"You shouldn't be so harsh on him," the captain reprimanded. "Perhaps some day, when you are king yourself, you will understand."

Zechs snorted. "I find it very unlikely that that's ever going to happen now."

"For god sake, Milliardo, will you stop wallowing in self pity," Treize told him sternly. "I do realize that you have been through a lot. But don't think that life has been all sunshine and roses for the rest of your family after your disappearance. What happened changed all of us, hopefully to the better."

Zechs blinked. For a moment it seemed as thought he was going to snap back at the captain, but then he suddenly smirked. 

Treize raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Did I say something amusing?"

"I was just thinking of something," the prince replied. "Do you remember when we were children? Whenever I got into an argument with Father I would hide somewhere where I could pout. But no matter how well I was hiding, you would always find me. You would give me an earful and send me back to apologize."

The captain grinned. "Yes, I do remember that. For some reason I seemed to be the only person you would listen to back then."

"I'm glad you came to find me once again, Treize."

*****

Zechs settled down next to Treize by the campfire. The captain was poking around in his supper. He didn't seem too impressed with the cook.

"Treize, on the way back to the Royal Palace, we will be crossing through Halton Borough County, won't we?" the blond asked. 

"I'm afraid that can't be avoided," the captain replied. "But don't worry; we won't come anyway near Alnwick castle."

"Actually," Zechs smirked. "I was hoping we would. It really isn't that much of a detour, considering that we would get a good meal and warm beds out of it."

"And not to forget, the look on Lord Alnwick's face," Treize added with a grin. "I'll send a messenger, right away to inform him about the arrival of the crown prince."

"Thank you, Captain; you are as quick thinking as always," the prince laughed. 

***

Alnwick castle was anxiously expecting the arrival of Prince Milliardo. 

News that the crown prince had been found alive, and that he was returning to Sank was slowly spreading throughout the kingdom. Lord Alnwick was rather pleased with the fact that his highness had chosen to stop at **his** castle on the way to the royal palace. That would give him something to brag about for years to come – or so he thought.

Everybody, including his Lordship and Captain Bunt, the head of the palace guard, were lined up in the inner courtyard as the prince and his entourage rode through the main gate. 

There was a slight expression of surprise on Bunt's face, as the men stopped their horses and dismounted. He looked at Captain Treize, then at Zechs, and surprise turned to irritation. "What's this supposed to be, some kind of a twisted jest?" he spat. "This isn't Prince Milliardo. His name is Zechs Merquise he is the leader of White Fang; a deserter and an outlaw."

"You must be mistaking, Captain," Treize replied smoothly. "I assure you that this is Crown Prince Milliardo Peacecraft. But you don't have to take my word for it. Ask his Lordship." He turned toward Lord Alnwick. "You do recognize Prince Milliardo, don't you?"

Lord Alnwick had turned pale. He swallowed convulsively, as he nodded. "Welcome at my castle, your Highness. I'm honored by your visit."

Milliardo gave a curt nod. "We thank you for your hospitality," he answered, his face a mask of perfect calm. "I have some very fond memories of this place…as well as a few not so pleasant ones." 

*****

Zechs tried hard to fight down the feeling of nervousness, as they came closer the royal palace. He had dreamed so many times about this. Still, he dreaded the moment when he would have to face his father.

Unconsciously he slowed down as he approached the draw bridge.

Treize moved his horse next to his. "Are you alright?"

Zechs turned his head and gave Treize a ghost of a smile. "I'm alright, just nervous," he confessed. "It's been so long…It almost seems like a different lifetime. So much has changed."

"It will be just fine," the captain assured him. "Your family, your friends they all have been looking forward to your return."

The prince nodded. "Thank you."

There was no big welcome celebration in the court yard, and Zechs was grateful for that. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to deal with that right now. Instead his family was waiting for him inside the castle. Zechs steeled himself as he walked down the long corridor to the great hall. He took a deep breath before he stepped through the door. 

There was a moment of awkward silence, before Relena broke the ice by running toward her brother and hugging him lovingly.

"Welcome home, Milliardo."

He smiled as he embraced her. "Thank you, Princess."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

T.B.C.

Author's Note: 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


	19. Darkness Rising part a

Thank you to everybody who reviewed this story

* * *

Part 14a – Darkness Rising

"There you are. I suppose I should have known that I would find you out here."

Zechs turned his head at the sound of his father's voice. He had retreated into the rose garden to be alone. The past few days had been trying, to say the least. As word of his return spread to the kingdom, guest arrived at the palace with well wishes and greetings. Of course, each and every one of them needed to be properly attended to.

"What is it, Son?"

The prince looked up at his father, questioningly.

"You look unhappy. Why?" the king asked as he settled down on the bench next to his son. "I thought we talked everything out."

That they did. His father had been surprisingly understanding, in Zechs' opinion. He had agreed to give every White Fang member who chose to settle down in Sank, a small piece of land. It had been harder to convince him to allow those White Fang members who weren't ready to put away their weapons for good, to join Sank's royal army.

"It's not that, Father."

"Then what is it, Milliardo? You need to tell me."

The young man winced. "That name, Father… I don't think I'm quite ready yet to be Milliardo Peacecraft again." The prince stared into the starlit sky and sighed. "Please don't get me wrong. I have been looking forward to this. I'm glad to be home with you, Relena and all my friends, but…I need to leave again."

King Stephán looked at his son. He was trying hard to hide his shock and disappointment.  
The prince lowered his gaze and stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, Father…I know…"

"No, M…, Son. Don't be. I suppose I was simply expecting too much. I had this vision that you would come back and that we could pick up where we left off two years ago like nothing happened. But of course, that **is** a rather unrealistic dream."

Zechs gave his father a ghost of a smile. "I won't be gone for too long, I promise. I just need a little more time to come to terms with all of this. And…" His smile grew wider. "I have to take care of something. There is somebody I really care about, and I owe her an explanation and an apology."

"A woman?"

"You seem surprised, Father?"

Now king was smirking. "I told you once that I'm very well aware of what is going on around me. One would have to be blind not to notice that you fancy young men and, that the relationship between you and Heero had started to grow beyond friendship. Though I would accept any choice you make, I do admit I would be pleased if your future mate would be a woman. After all, only a woman can provide this family with the next heir to the throne."

The prince laughed, but it sounded a little embarrassed. "Father, right now I'm not even sure if she ever wants to see me again. So please let's wait a little before we make wedding plans."

"Very well, I'll have Captain Treize prepare an escort for you."

Zechs shook his head. "No escort. I'll be only taking Walker with me. He should be back soon."

"But…," the king tired to object.

"Trust me, Father, I'm much safer on my own," his son assured him.

#####

Sally was on her way back to the castle from a visit to the marketplace, when she was suddenly seized by her right arm. The young woman jerked around. "Get your hands of me," she snarled.

The assailant was a tall man dressed in a dark hooded cloak. He released her arm and pushed back the hood that obscured his face. "Lady Sally?"

Sally blinked, as she recognized the young man. "Zechs…I mean, your Highness!" She stared at him surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help, my Lady. I have to see the Princess."

"I'm not sure that she wants to see you," Sally told him honestly. "She was really angry at you."

"Yes, I guessed that much," Zechs replied somberly. "I can't say that I blame her. But I need to talk to her. I never had a chance to apologize. Will you help me, please?"

The young shield maiden thought about it for a moment, then she nodded. "Very well, I'll help to bring the two together. The rest is up to you. But mark my word, Sir." She scowled at him. "Crown prince or not, if you hurt her again I'll find you and make you regret that we ever met."

Zechs smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Meet us at Silver Lake, at dusk."

"Thank, you. I'm deeply in your debt, my Lady."

"I'm not doing this for your sake, your Highness," the young woman replied. _I'm only doing this because Noin has been miserable ever since you left.  
_

_#####  
_

King Dekim and his nephew were sitting down for dinner when one of the guards walked into the room and approached the king.

"Forgive the intrusion, your Highness," he whispered, so low that Trowa could barely hear him.

"I just wanted to let you know that Sir Duane has arrived."

Dekim nodded. "Take him to my study. I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, your Highness." The guard bowed and retreated.

Soon after, the king excused himself, stating that he had important matters to tend to.

Trowa frowned, as he watched his uncle walk away. _Who is this Sir Duane, and what's all the secrecy about? I suppose there is only one way to find out.  
_He called for one of the servants. "You may start clearing he table," he told the man. "I'm finished as well."

The prince left the hall, but instead of going to his quarters he headed outside.

With the experience of somebody who had done this many time before, Trowa climbed one of the large oak trees in the garden. He used a long branch to swing to one of the lower roofs. From there he scaled down the wall, using small crevices between the rocks to keep from falling, until his feet hit a thin ledge. That ledge led right to the window at the king's study. Slowly, Trowa balanced along the ledge until he reached the open window. The sun had already set, and it was dark enough to do this without having to fear that somebody might see him.

The prince could hear his uncle talk, and he stopped and listened to the conversation.

"Are you sure that you will be able to do it?"

"Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my abilities, your Highness?" asked a second voice; Sir Duane Trowa assumed.

"The king of Sank is not an ordinary target," Barton pointed out. "He is well protected, and I've heard rumors that he has not only one, but two wizards in his services."

"I assure you, there is nothing to be concerned about. King or not, it is all the same to me, as long as the prize is right." Duane laughed in a sinister way.

There was a quiet thug and a jingling noise, like somebody had thrown a money bag onto a hard surface. "I'll give you have of the bounty now. You will get the rest when your job is done and I receive word of his death."

The prince's eyes widened. He suddenly realized that his uncle's visitor was an assassin, and that his target was no one else but King Stephán Peacecraft.

Sir Duane said something else, but he had lowered his voice and Trowa had trouble understanding him. As he tried to move closer toward the window the ledge crumbled beneath his feet and a few pieces of stone fell into the yard below. The young prince almost slipped. As he fought to regain his balance, the conversation suddenly stopped. He could hear a chair being moved and then some footsteps. Towa pressed his body flat against the wall and held his breath.

King Dekim's head appeared in the window frame. The man looked around, mumbled something that sounded like:"Perhaps a bird…," and closed the window.  
The prince cursed silently. He waited a few moments before he once again tried to creep closer. Through the lit window he could see his uncle and the visitor sit at the table. The men shared a pitcher of wine and talked. Trowa couldn't even read their lips, because the king was sitting with his back to the window. At one point the assassin raised his head and looked straight at the window. Trowa swallowed, as he quickly pulled his head back.

_This is no use_, he told him self. _I heard all I'm going to hear. If I stay here much longer they might really discover me._

Slowly he inched back. His mind was reeling as he scaled down the wall and jumped into the yard. He couldn't get Sir Duane's face out of his head. He was certain that he had met that man before, he just wasn't sure when and where.

######

"Sally, can't you at least tell me where you are taking me? What is all this secrecy about?" Princess Noin asked as she and her shield maiden left the castle just as the sun was setting.

"Very well, we are going to Silver Lake." Sally replied. "But that's all I'll tell you for now."

Noin frowned. Why Silver Lake? When they were younger they would go there and bath at night, but they hadn't done that in years. The last time she went there was together with… She quickly banned that thought from her mind. Her father was right. She probably wouldn't ever see Zechs again. It was no use wallowing in memories.

"Why Silver Lake?" she asked.

"I'm not going to tell you, your Highness, so you might as well stop asking."

The princess snorted very un-ladylike. "Fine, be that way."

Her friend laughed. They rode quietly side by side until the reached the lake.

Noin frowned when she noticed a man standing at the shore. He was leaning against one of the large willow trees. In the light of the setting sun, his long hair shimmered like gold. The princess swallowed. _Zechs? No, it can't be_.

He must have heard them approach, because he suddenly turned around to face them, his crystal blue eyes lit up in delight. "Princess."

Noin's yaw dropped. Suddenly her chest felt awfully tight and she had difficulty breathing. She had to stop herself from jumping out of the saddle and running to him. Somehow she managed to keep her face neutral as she dismounted deliberately slow. "Zechs, what are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you had returned to Sank."

"I had to come back. I needed to talk to you." He walked over to her and went down on one knee. "I needed a chance to ask for your forgiveness."

Sally, who hadn't even dismounted, turned her horse around. "I'll leave you two then. Princess Noin, Prince Milliardo."

Noin turned to her shield maiden, surprise in her eyes. "You knew about this?" she asked.

Before Sally could say anything Zechs intervened. "I asked her to bring you here, Princess. So, please don't blame her for anything."

As the blond maiden rode off and disappeared in the distance Zechs stared down at his boots and sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

"You could begin by telling me why you lied to me? I realize that at first you did what you had to do to protect your men. But why didn't you tell me the truth later on? Why did you have to keep up the charade?"

The harshness in her voice almost made him cringe. "You are still angry, aren't you?"

"Of course I am angry. What did you expect? I trusted you. I thought you trusted me too."

"I understand." Zechs lowered his gaze. "If you want me to leave, I'll…"

"I don't want you to leave, you dimwit."

He looked at her and raised one eyebrow in surprise, as he inquired. "Then, what do you want me to do, Princess?"

"I want you to promise me that you will never lie to me again. And then I want you to take me into your arms and kiss me; kiss me like you have never kissed me before."

#####

"Where have you been?" Duo asked when Trowa returned to his quarters.

"Outside," the prince replied.

"Is something wrong?" the braided squire wanted to know.

"Yes, my uncle has finally gone mad," Trowa growled, as he pulled of his soft leather gloves and threw them onto the bed.

Duo grinned. "I thought we realized that a long time ago."

"This isn't a jesting matter, Duo. He has hired an assassin, a man named Duane, to kill the king of Sank."

"What?" Duo's jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide. "Why would he…?"

"Apparently he is trying to proof his allegiance and worth to Emperor Tubarov."

"This **is** madness. How does he think Sank is going to react to the assassination of their king? Peaceful country or not, they will most certainly retaliate."

Trowa nodded grimly. He walked to the window and stared outside. "It will lead Crownwood directly into war; a war this kingdom can not afford, especially not so close to the harvest season. I will not stand by and let this happen."

"We need to warn them," Duo suggested. "If I leave immediately I should be able to reach the royal palace in Sank before Duane."

"Duo, this is dangerous," the prince pointed out, as he turned to face his friend.

Duo snorted. "Do you think I'm not aware of that? Do you have a better idea?"

Trowa sighed. "I'm afraid I don't. I'm just worried."

"Worried about me?" the braided youth joked. "Do you have so little confidence in me?"

Trowa's lips curved into a soft smile. "Very well, prepare yourself to leave. Just be careful, Duo."

"Aren't I always?" His friend laughed. He looked at the prince and frowned. Trowa had grown serious again. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

"This man, Duane, I met him before. He came to visit my uncle once before, many years ago; shortly before my father died."

Duo's eyes widened. He knew that Trowa had always suspected that the king's dead was not an accident, and that his uncle was somehow involved. Was this proof that he was correct? Did Dekim truly go as far as to hire an assassin to have his own brother murdered? The thought sent a cold shiver down Duo's spine. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

* * *

T.B.C.

Author's Note: If you haven't already please take a look at the new title graphic at my website (Check profile for URL)

Feedback is greatly appreciated, constructive criticism is welcome :-)


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